


A New Definition of Family

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-29
Updated: 2006-09-14
Packaged: 2019-01-19 17:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 87,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12414894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: A new person enters Harry's life, one with ties to his parents, and to his enemies.  Starts at the beginning of summer after 3rd year, and is a tiny bit AU.  Lots of character exploration.  Main romantic pairing: SB/OC; minor pairings: HP/HG, RL/NT





	1. Upward Bound

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 1: Upward Bound**

**Disclaimer:  Well, I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters.  Big surprise, I know.  Any characters and spells you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are my babies.**

**____________________________________________________________________**

Harry lay on his back and tried not to move in the oppressive summer heat.  His movements were languid and his thoughts followed suit.  He had had three weeks to contemplate the amazing things that had happened in those last few days of the end of the term.  Third year had been quite eventful, but there were only so many times one could mull over the events before they became, well, rather mundane.  Briefly he wondered when his friends would contact him…he’d not heard the littlest peep from anyone in the wizarding community.  The thought joined others that swirled endlessly in a slow circle like water trying to drain down a clogged pipe…he tried to get worked up about it, but failed miserably as his mind followed the example of his body and lolled about lazily.  Harry might have felt less stifled in his room at #4 Privet Drive had the window not been nailed shut.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Harry turned his head slightly to hear as his uncle opened the front door.  

“BOY!” growled Uncle Vernon, “Get down here!”

Slightly faster than a lizard in torpor, Harry swung out of bed and made his way downstairs.  Standing in the hallway was a plain looking woman with brown hair in a business suit.  Vernon had a frown on his face. There appeared to be a confrontation of some sort going on.  _This cannot_ _be good,_ thought Harry.

“Mr. Dursley, I can assure you that the Upward Bound UK program is not considered soft on troubled boys.  I’m disappointed that you don’t seem to have the confidence in the program that your letter to us implied,” the strange woman said.

“I was under the impression that the program was run by ex-military types, not mere slips of girls like you...”

The woman plastered on a fake smile, “I assure you, sir, that I am a counselor trained in the rehabilitation of teenagers with personality disorders, and that I am quite capable of handling your nephew’s situation.”  When she saw that Vernon was not convinced she added, “I am ex-Green Beret.”

Vernon brightened a little.  Harry finally shook off the paralyzing shock long enough to say “Hang on, what is going on here?”  Vernon opened his mouth, but the woman interrupted.

“Mr. Potter, your uncle was fortunate enough to secure the last open spot for you in our summer program for delinquent teens.  Be advised that this opportunity is a rare one.  From what your uncle has reported, you are lucky indeed to be offered this last chance before you end up incarcerated in the juvenile justice system.  You have ten minutes to pack your things, and then we are leaving.”

Harry gaped as his sluggish mind scrambled to assimilate what he’d just heard.  He looked remarkably like a fish that had found itself in the desert.

“Wait, Miss…” Vernon started.

“Levy,” she supplied.

“Miss Levy, is it possible to arrange for you to take the boy to catch his train to his boarding school? When the program is over, I mean?”

Miss Levy paused to contemplate this.  “Which school?  What train station?  What day?”

“St. Brutus’ Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.  Kings Cross Station, 1st  of September.”

“Well, the program ends on the 31st of August, but yes, yes I think I will be able to arrange it.”

“Splendid!” Dursley beamed, thinking that Petunia would be pleased that he had rid them of that horrid boy for the rest of the year.

Miss Levy turned to Harry.  “Shouldn’t you be packing?”  

Harry sputtered and turned an even darker shade of red with anger.  His mind had by now slipped out of its muddled haze, and his body decided to follow the example.  He turned to his uncle and shouted, “You can’t do this!” 

Miss Levy proceeded to demonstrate just how competent she was in dealing with recalcitrant teens.  She leapt in front of Vernon and faced Harry. She grabbed him by the shoulders, looked him straight in the eye and said, “Mr. Potter, do not make your situation worse!  Please do what I say. Now!”  He glared at her, but his mouth almost dropped in shock again when he saw her barely wink at him.  She gave a slight jerk of her head, indicating the stairs and quirked her left eyebrow.  

Harry’s mind raced and his heart pounded.  _What was going on?_   She wiggled her eyebrows up and down and the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly before she turned around to Vernon, took his arm, turned him toward the kitchen and said, “Mr. Dursley, there is a bit of paperwork…”

Harry turned and started up the stairs when he saw his cousin on the upstairs landing, smirking for all he was worth.  “Didn’t see THAT coming, did you, freak?” Dudley chortled.  

Harry had the presence of mind to glare at Dudley and stomp a bit as he went to his little room and slammed the door.  Hedwig looked up, startled and indignant and almost ruffled her feathers in protest, but the languor that had held the room in its spell was still in effect.  She merely glared.  She was not happy about being imprisoned in her cage the last three weeks.  Harry understood how she felt.  

He stood for a moment in the stifling heat, brow creased in thought until his eyes fell upon an envelope on his bed.  That had not been there before!  It was addressed to

                        Harry Potter

                        The Smallest Bedroom

                        #4 Privet Drive

                        Little Whinging, Surrey

He turned it over and was surprised to find elegant handwriting:  

_Mr. Potter, neither my owl nor I was able to get to you or you would’ve had warning.  I had to wait until I was in the house before I could deliver this to you.  Sorry._

It was signed “Miss Levy” and Harry did not miss the quotation marks around her name.  

He tore open the envelope.

            _Dear Harry,_

_I’m sure you won’t object to a little scheme to get you away from the Dursleys a bit early this summer.  On 23 July, one of my associates will be arriving at your home posing as a director for a camp for juvenile delinquents.  I am counting on you to play along and make it look believable._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry immediately opened his trunk and began packing his belongings.  His eyes widened in surprise as each item he put in shrunk down to a tenth of its size!  How was she able to do that?  She had not been up to his bedroom.  He had not seen her with a wand…

A niggling thought finally broke through to the surface; _what if she was an imposter?_   Sure, his window had been nailed shut, but a detail so minor had never stopped Dumbledore from getting a letter to him before.  His letter did not specify if his “associate” was a man, or a woman.  This woman could have intercepted Dumbledore’s letter and used it to her own advantage.  Why else would she have to wait till she was in the house to deliver it?

Harry’s mind worked furiously.  He grabbed a scrap of parchment and scribbled a quick note to the Weasleys.  He would play along, and if he found himself in the clutches of one of Voldemort’s followers he would just have to make sure he could let Hedwig loose with the letter.

_______________________________________________________________________________    

Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Miss Levy turned at the sound of Harry’s trunk _ka-thunk ka-thunk ka-thunking_ down the steps.  The trunk was actually pretty light, thanks to the spell on all the contents, but Harry could not help taking out his anger on the Dursleys in a childish, but satisfying, way.  For all they knew, they were sending him to some sadistic “tough love” type program for criminals!  And by the looks on their faces, they were glad.

Miss Levy gave a little gasp at the sight of Hedwig in her cage.  “Uhm…a pet owl?  That’s a bit unusual!  I’m afraid the pet will have to stay here.”

“NO!” shouted Harry, Vernon and Petunia in unison.

Miss Levy huffed out an impatient sigh and said, “Alright.  I’ll see what I can do.”  She pulled a cell phone out of her briefcase, flipped it open and began dialing as she strode out the front door to the stoop.  “Reception.”  She stated over her shoulder as the door closed.  Three people stood frozen as they listened to her muffled conversation.  She swung the door open and entered.  “They will agree to board the bird on the condition that we can use it in our animal therapy program for the more mentally disturbed boys.”  It seemed to Harry that her eyes sparkled just a bit with amusement as she looked at him.

“Done!” snapped Petunia, eager to get her nephew, his owl and his trunk out of her home.  

“What?!”  Harry cried, playing his part, “they can’t subject Hedwig to insane boys!”

“BOY!” growled Vernon in warning.  Harry shut his mouth.  He wanted to get himself, his owl and his trunk out of this home just as badly.

“Well then,” Miss Levy said brightly, “you have all the contact numbers with the paperwork.  We will make sure the boy gets to his train.  He is packed and it looks like everything is in order.  We’ll just be on our way then.”

She paused to let the family say their good-byes.  No one said a word.  Suddenly, Dudley came stomping down the stairs and sneered, “Hope you have a grueling summer, freak!”

Miss Levy appeared a bit taken aback, but recovered her composure and announced firmly, “He will have a _character building_ summer.  I assure you, Mr. Dursley, you will be quite satisfied with our program.”

“I will be quite satisfied if you would just get this miscreant out of my house.”

“Yes, uh, well then, uh, come along Mr. Potter!”  She turned and walked purposely out the door with Harry in tow.

As Harry stowed the trunk in the boot of a rather old and worn car, the Dursleys lined up happily on the front stoop.  Harry got himself and Hedwig in the back seat, and he turned to glare at his family as Miss Levy drove off.  Petunia hugged Vernon while Dudley pumped his arm up and down several times in the air.  Harry slumped down in the seat, disgruntled and dejected.

________________________________________________________________________________

“Well, they really are a sodding lot, aren’t they?” Miss Levy stated, her voice tight with anger.  Harry grunted.  “Give me a minute or two to get us out of the neighborhood and we’ll get this sorted out, right?” she asked as she glanced at Harry in the rearview mirror.  

“Yeah,” he quietly replied.

She swung into the car park of a shopping center and circled around the back, stopping the car when it was out of sight of the public.  “ _Finite incantatum_.”  She turned to Harry as the Glamourie Spell wore off to reveal a woman with short dark red hair and large green eyes.  The color of her hair and eyes reminded him of his mother so forcibly that he felt a sharp stab to his heart.  

“My name is Arinna Dunlevy, and we have just successfully completed the kidnapping portion of this adventure!”  

Her words did nothing to boost his confidence that she was not an imposter.  He attempted to hide his disquieting thoughts and stated, lamely, “I’m Harry Potter.”  

Her eyes twinkled slightly again.  “I am relieved to hear that!  If I had accidentally nabbed Dudley Dursley instead, I’d never hear the end of it!”  She peered at him closely.  He was quiet, and nervous, in her assessment.  She was unsure why.  She pointed to a bag of clothes in the foot well of the back seat.  “Could you hand me those?  And you are welcome to get in the front seat.”  

Harry grabbed the bag, and moved to the front.  As he handed her the bag, he saw a wand for the first time.  She murmured an incantation and suddenly she was dressed in the clothes from the bag: jeans and a short sleeved top.  The business suit was now in the bag.  “Whew!  I hate stuffy clothes.  Now I am back in my element.”  

Harry was silent.  He was nervously waiting for the other shoe to drop.  It just couldn’t be this easy to escape the clutches of the Dursleys.  Something had to be amiss…

“Right.”  Arinna took a deep breath.  “Well.  I’m sure you have a lot of questions, so would you like to start, or should I launch into the entire story from the beginning?”

Summoning his courage, Harry turned and looked right into her eyes.  “Who exactly are you working for?” he asked coldly.

Arinna was taken aback.  She should have realized the kid would be paranoid.  He had every right to be.  But how had she aroused his suspicions?  _Well, using words like “kidnapping” and “nabbed” probably didn’t help,_ suggested her mind.  She took another deep breath.  _Go slowly,_ she told herself, _don’t freak him out_.  _Too late!_ countered another part of her mind.

“I am here as a favor to your headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.  A small group of people whom he trusts came up with this little plan to get you out, and it was felt that I was the best person to execute said plan.”  

“Why didn’t Professor Dumbledore’s little warning get to me in time?  Did you have anything to do with that?”

_Ah, so that’s where I slipped.  Stupid mistake, Rinna!  They had warned you he was sharp-witted._ She leveled her gaze at him.  “Yes.  I’m afraid I did.”

Harry made to get out of the car, but she grabbed his arm with lightning reflexes.  “Wait up, and let me explain…”

“Not unless you can convince me you are not working for Voldemort!”

She did not flinch at the sound of the name.  Harry’s heart stopped for a moment.

_You’re bungling it!_ She screamed at herself.  She let go of his arm and leaned back into her seat.  She tried to appear non-threatening.  “Harry,” she sighed. 

Something in the sound of her voice made him stop his fumbling at the door latch.  _Was it sadness?  Pain?_   He shook his head to clear his thoughts as she started to speak.

“I am not working for that effing bastard Voldemort!” she said fiercely.  “I made the mistake of offering to deliver Dumbledore’s letter myself when it became clear that the owls weren’t reaching you.  I didn’t count on that shit of an aunt of yours and her pig husband not ever letting you out of the house!  I finally decided to just deliver it when I got there.  I’m sorry, Harry, but I seriously underestimated how you would react.  It makes perfect sense that you’d be suspicious of me, what with all you’ve dealt with where Voldemort is concerned, and with your recent experience of being hunted by Sirius Black…”  Her voice hitched ever so slightly.  She paused to breathe.

He wanted to protest, _No, Sirius wasn’t hunting ME!_   But the niggling thought interrupted again _; she said Voldemort’s name without nary a stutter, TWICE!_ He grabbed for the door latch again.  

“Wait!  Wait!” she said desperately.  “I can prove to you that I am a friend, not a foe!”  

Again he stopped at the tone in her voice.  Part of his brain was berating him _run while you can, idiot!_ but he turned and looked at her.  Her green eyes were wild with concern.  “How?” he asked.

She reached for the glove box and pulled out a photograph.  She silently handed it to Harry.  He looked down at it and saw two teenaged girls, both with long red hair and green eyes.  At first you would think them sisters because of the similarity in the hair and eye color, but on second glance it became obvious that these two had completely different features.  The one with almond shaped eyes and a smattering of freckles was his mother.  The one with big eyes and porcelain skin and delicate features was clearly a younger version of the woman sitting next to him.  He watched as the two girls laughed, hugged each other and then mugged for the camera.  The picture spoke of deep friendship and love, frivolity and hope, a bond of sisterhood.

Arinna spoke in a near whisper, “Your mum was my dearest friend.” 

_________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N:  Here is where I implore you to leave me a review.  Did I capture your attention?  Enough to make you want to keep reading?  Did you like it?  Hate it?  Please let me know!  I assure you that I will greatly appreciate your time and effort.**


	2. Instincts

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 2: Instincts**

**Disclaimer:  Well, I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters.  Big surprise, I know.  Any characters you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are my babies.**

**Author note:** **Here’s where I give big ups to Lorett. She is an absolute GEM of a friend, and we're talking Hope Diamond proportions here! She is my beta for this story and if it wasn't for her, and her persuasive ways, this story would still only exist in my little ol' head.**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

The two red-heads waved and laughed, then blew kisses at Harry. The cycle began again and he watched it through three times, feeling a number of emotions wash over him in rapid succession, like gusts of wind whipping at his robes.  The little voice returned.  _Muggle photographs can be altered.  Can wizard ones?_   He tried to dismiss the thought, but it tickled the back of his mind like an annoying itch.  _You don’t know this woman at all.  No one has ever said anything to you about your mum’s best friend before.  Why would she just show up now?_   He couldn’t banish the tickle.

“Would you mind opening the boot for me?” He startled her out of her thoughts.  

“All right.”  

Harry opened his trunk and took out a tiny picture album that reverted to full size once he pulled it from the trunk.  He ran a hand over it lovingly before opening it.  Hagrid had given it to him at the end of his first year at Hogwarts; it contained pictures of his parents.  Harry flipped through the photos from their wedding hoping to find the faces of other guests, but Hagrid had been rather single minded in his quest to give Harry pictures of his parents, and pictures that did not have Lily and James as the main focal point had not made it into the album.  He found the picture of James and Lily laughing with Sirius Black.  There had to be…

A movement caught his eye, a movement at the left hand edge of a photo of the happy couple dancing.  He waited…there!  A young Remus Lupin twirled a girl in a deep red dress ( _Gryffindor red_ his mind told him) but just as he turned her so her face would be visible, they slipped out of the frame.  Patiently Harry waited and was rewarded when the dancers entered the frame again.  Her smiling face was to the camera; her red hair piled on her head in an elegant coif, with tendrils hanging down to frame her face and emphasize her big green eyes.  She laughed as Lupin wrapped his arms around her and dipped her.  When they came up, they disappeared from the frame again _.  Huh!  Didn’t know the Professor had it in him,_ mused Harry.                                                             

Arinna was leaning against the car trying not to look at the pictures but it was no use.  Her eyes were drawn to them like to a gruesome accident scene; she was almost nauseated by what she saw, but could not look away.  Harry tapped the left edge of the picture, drawing her attention.  She watched as she and Remus came into view, and again as he clowned around and dipped her.  A small smile appeared on her face.  “The silly ass,” she said softly.  Harry looked up at her and saw sad nostalgia in her eyes.  “May I look at this?” she asked.  He stepped aside and held the one side as she grasped the other and the next few minutes were spent in silence as they turned pages.

Arinna finally broke the quiet.  “After almost thirteen years, the pain should be less, don’t you think?”  Harry saw the tears that threatened to spill.  

“I’m guessing it’s not,” he whispered in half-question, half-statement.  

She sighed and wiped her eyes.  “In my experience, no.  No, it is not.”

Harry felt a pang of guilt for subjecting her to the painful memories the photos must have evoked.  “I’m sorry,” he started, “for bringing out the album, but I needed to know…” his voice trailed off.  How could he tell her that he hadn’t trusted her even after she gave him the picture of her and Lily?  

She looked sharply at him, but her voice was kind.  “Know what?”

“If the picture you gave me was a fake.”  He hung his head in shame.  “I shouldn’t have questioned…”

“HARRY!”  Now her voice was sharp.  She took the album out of his hands and turned him to face her.  She placed a hand on his shoulder and the other hand under his chin and forced him to look at her.  Two pairs of green eyes met and held.  “Promise me you will NEVER stop listening to that gut instinct, that inner voice, or whatever it is that tells you something is not as it seems!”  Harry blinked in surprise.  “That IS what was going on, isn’t it?” she pursued.  He nodded.

She sighed and turned to lean against the car again, crossing her arms over her chest.  “In retrospect, I probably was not the best person for the job.  Swooping in, unheard of, out of nowhere and expecting that…”  

SCREECH!

An owl’s cry caused both to jump.  “Hedwig!” Harry gasped.  He ran to the back door and opened it and felt the heat that had accumulated inside.  He pulled her cage out and felt a packet of owl treats thrust into his hand.

“Poor thing.  I forgot it gets so hot in parked cars.  Here, let me…” Arinna spun her wand around the bird and a cool breeze began to ruffle her feathers.  Next she conjured some water in a dish.  Hedwig hooted her approval.  “Pretty girl!  Do you feel better now?”  Hedwig looked her right in the eye and mantled her feathers haughtily.  “Hmmm.  I don’t think I’m forgiven,” Arinna laughed softly.

“Ah, she’ll get over it,” Harry assured her, as he fed his owl the treats. “After all, she spent 3 weeks cooped up in my stuffy room at least as hot as this.”  

“May I borrow her, Harry?  I need to send a note to Dumbledore and the Weasleys letting them know that I finally managed to wrestle you away from that, that, those _people_.”  Harry nodded, and she grabbed a note pad and a ball point pen from her briefcase.  Harry tried to surreptitiously remove the note he had tied to Hedwig’s leg earlier in his room but Arinna noticed.  “What’s that note about?”  

Harry blushed and stammered.  “To tell the Weasleys I was being kidnapped.” he finally got out.  There was a moment of dead silence, before she began to chuckle.  _Sharp-witted?  More like razor-edged!_

“Harry Potter, you have the makings of a good Auror in you!  No, don’t apologize again!  What did I just say about trusting your instincts?”  Her face broke into a genuine smile, like the one from the picture.  She was stunning.  

“That I’d better not ignore them?”

Her eyes were warm and lit up by her smile.  “I say, Harry, if I am ever in a desperate situation, surrounded by danger on all sides, then I want you and your razor wits at my back!”  She turned to tie her message onto Hedwig.  Harry went all warm at her praise.

Two heads lifted in unison to watch the snowy owl fly away.  A loud rumble emitted from Harry’s midsection.  “Tell you what,” Arinna grinned, _it’s been a long time, but I do remember that teenaged boys are bottomless pits._ “I’m feeling a bit peckish, let’s go grab a bite to eat.  I have a lot of explaining to do, and I must have sustenance to do it!”  

Harry grinned back.  “An excellent suggestion, Miss Dunlevy!” he bowed mock-gallantly.

As he settled into the front seat, she placed a hand lightly on his knee and caught his eye.  “Harry, my friends call me ‘Rinna.’  I’d like for you to do the same.”

As she pulled the car out into traffic, Arinna mentally made a herculean effort to pull her scattered wits together.  The whole scheme had sounded good some ten days ago, but it wasn’t playing out quite as she had planned.  Seeing that photo album…seeing them…seeing _him_ …  _Pull it together, Rinna!  You need to concentrate; you’ve only been driving for a year._

Driving in the city made her nervous.  In all honesty, driving anywhere made her nervous.  But failure was not an option for Arinna Dunlevy, and having decided three years ago to experience the unknown (to her, anyway) Muggle world, she embraced it with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.  _Well that sounds much prettier than the truth_ said a tiny voice in her mind.  Ruthlessly, she clamped down on the seditious thought, but not before it added: _more like FLED the wizarding world to the decidedly unmagical one rather than face…_ Rinna pinched herself behind the knee.  _SHUT UP!_  she bellowed silently to herself.  _Really, Rinna, you’ve got to stop listening to yourself._   She snorted.  The irony that THAT was exactly contrary to what she told Harry HE should do was not lost on her.

The sound of her snort pulled Harry out of his own reverie.  “Sorry?  Did you say something?”

“No, but…this would be a good time to name your poison.”

“What?!” exclaimed a startled Harry.

Rinna mentally whapped herself upside the head.  _Bloody brilliant.  Just rile up all his suspicions again.  Keep this up and you will never be allowed on another rescue mission!_ She squashed down any further thoughts (including the one that stated she really needed a shot of fire whiskey about now).

“I meant, what do you want to eat?  You choose.  Anything you want.”

“Oh.  Whatever I want?”  She nodded.  Harry broke into a grin.  “Pizza!”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry took a bite from the slice of pizza, sucking in air to cool the food as the hot cheese threatened to take a layer of skin from the roof of his mouth. 

“I’m not one for sweet drinks,” Rinna was saying, “but these fizzy ones aren’t so bad.”

“Soda.” Harry corrected her, as he drank said beverage in an attempt to salvage his mouth.  Deciding it was prudent to let the food cool, he studied Rinna with curiosity.

“Rinna, how old are you?”  

She almost choked and replied, “Harry!  Don’t you know it is bad manners to ask a lady how old she is?”

Harry felt relaxed and happy for the first time in a long time and some impertinence was breaking through.  “I’m sure I am NOT sitting with a LADY considering the language I heard you use not long ago!”  He said in a supercilious tone while grinning cheekily.

“What?!”  

“I quote: ‘effing bastard.’  Really, Miss Dunlevy, such language is NOT befitting a …” He was interrupted by Rinna’s shriek of laughter.

“That has got to be the best imitation of Minerva McGonagall I have ever heard!” she gasped out, laughing so hard she was teary.  

“Well, she is the Head of my House,” he replied, with no attempt at wiping the impudence from his face whatsoever.  When the laughter died down, he continued, “You just don’t look old enough, you know, to be friends with my mum.”

“I was two years younger than her, actually.”

Harry frowned a little.  “How did that happen, then?  Becoming friends when you are so far apart in age?”

Rinna paused.  Certainly to an almost fourteen-year-old, two years was a big gap.  But it hadn’t seemed so to her and Lily.  “Well, two things happened to bring that about, really.”  Rinna was surprised at how little pain she felt.  She hadn’t spoken of Lily to anyone in so long.  She had thought it would be rather agonizing for her to do so.  “The first was; I entered Hogwart’s a year earlier than most children do.”

Harry looked surprised, so she explained, “My magical gifts manifested quite early.  There was a need for me to develop discipline sooner rather than later.”

“Oh.  And the second?”

“Well, I was so precocious in some areas, that at the beginning of my third year, I was put in Fourth Year Potions.  The same class that Lily, your father, Siri…uh, all the Marauders were in.” 

“Wow!”  Harry was impressed.  He thought about Hermione using the Time-Turner last year.  She certainly would be considered precocious.  His heart gave a little pang at the possibility of losing her if she was advanced to the next Year.  “But wasn’t that hard on you, to leave your friends and go to a group of strangers?”  

“Actually, I didn’t really have friends.  I was very insecure my first two years, and shy.  Then, I started to realize I was academically at the top of my year and by the beginning of my Third Year, I was much more confident.  And something happened to me…”

“What happened?”  Harry was intrigued.

“I developed a backbone, an attitude and opinions!  It really was a bad combination, actually, quite volatile.  No one in the Potions class wanted an ickle Third Year telling them in minute detail exactly where they were doing wrong in the brewing.  But I couldn’t help myself.  I was tired of being the quiet one.  I was a little social nightmare, and became quite put upon by my classmates.”  She cringed at the memory.

Harry nodded.  He certainly could not see anyone in HIS class tolerating such insolence from a youngster.  He felt sorry for the young Rinna.  “And…” he prompted.

She looked into Harry’s eyes.  So much like Lily’s.  _Ouch._   The pain finally manifested.  And yet, it wasn’t so bad when she could say it to Lily’s eyes.  “Your mother was a very compassionate person.  She felt sorry for me and took me under her wing and saved me from the social hell I was unwittingly creating for myself.  She stood up for me and, most importantly, she loved me for who I was.”  It felt like picking at a scab; _you had better stop now, before you pull away the protective covering and become a bloody mess._

Harry wanted to talk with her forever.  He really craved any information, any description of his parents.  He wondered about himself; was he like them?  Was his temper more like his mum’s or his dad’s?  Which side did his sense of humor come from?  But most of all, although he did not consciously realize it, he wanted some kind of confirmation that they would have been proud of him.  Arinna Dunlevy had stepped into his life today, and provided some small bit of the enlightenment he desired.  He wanted more.

“And you were friends ever since?”  

Not trusting herself to speak at that moment, Rinna merely nodded her head.

“So you knew my dad, and Sirius and Professor Lupin, too, right?”

_Uh oh,_ said the protective part of her mind, _don’t go there.  If you open too many wounds, you could bleed to death._ The picture from Harry’s album of Sirius laughing was seared into her mind.  

"Well," she hesitated, unwilling to open a line of discussion that she simply wasn't prepared for at the moment, "Of course I knew them...The, uh, the Marauders were quite, well, let’s just say _infamous_ at school. I don't think there was a student there who wasn't subjected to their high jinks at one time or another." Harry's eyes lit up, but were quickly sobered at her next words. "And we will talk about them, Harry," she glanced around a bit nervously, "but later.  This isn't the time or the place to do it." 

Harry's lips pursed and quirked to the side. He sighed a little exaggeratedly and very grumpily. "Okay..."

Rinna nodded, _one bullet dodged_... 

Harry's eyes lit right back up; _uh oh_ …she could almost see the questions queuing up in his sharp mind, waiting to be flung at her...and she could feel her spirit running at a dead sprint behind its brick wall, not wanting to answer them.

"OH! But you can talk about my mum, right?" Harry went on undeterred, "Was she smart?"

Was the boy part terrier?  Rinna felt like a fox in the hunt, cornered. “Definitely.  She got high marks in all her classes.  Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Transfiguration were her best subjects...”

“Did she like Quidditch?” 

“Harry…”

“Did she play on the house team?  Was she a good flyer like my dad?”

“HARRY!”  Once again, the tone in her voice made him stop.  “Harry,” a bit less sharply, “Lily was like a sister to me.”  Her voice dropped very low.  “When she…when she…died, it was like a part of me had been amputated.”  She dropped her head in her hands and ran her fingers through her hair.  She looked up into Harry’s eyes.  “I’m sorry, Harry, I thought I could do this.  I thought I’d be able to tell you what you wanted to know.  But I haven’t really spoken of her since…since that night.  It is more painful than I expected, even after all these years.”

“But you are the first person I’ve met who was my mum’s friend, not my dad’s…” his voice had a slight edge to it…a touch of desperation mixed with annoyance.  He ran a hand through tousled, raven hair and Rinna watched fascinated, _Just like James…Just like **him.**_

Rinna cringed and looked away.  She didn’t want to see the look in his eyes…At the moment she just wasn’t ready yet.  Harry would have to wait until she could battle these feelings and get them under better control.

“I understand that.  I do.”  Her voice became steady, and firm.  _That’s it, Rinna.  Regain control of the situation, my girl._ “You want to know about your mum.  And I want to tell you about her, really I do.  But you are going to have to give me some time.”

Her assessment of his face brought one word to mind: sulky _. Well, that’s certainly better than desperate and annoyed…_  “Besides, we really should discuss our plans for the rest of the day.  And I dare say you would be interested to know what Dumbledore and company have in store for you the rest of the holiday, hmm?”

Harry brightened with sudden hope.  Ron had mentioned having Harry stay at the Burrow, and…

“The Weasleys said something about tickets to the Quidditch World Cup,” she dangled the morsel of information in front of him.

“YES!”  Harry pumped his arm in the air.

Rinna smiled to herself at his quixotic change in mood.  “AND you’ll be staying at the Burrow for the rest of the summer.”  Harry did a few dance moves in his seat.  “AND,” she continued, “I thought that before we went there tonight for dinner, we could go to the cinema as a treat.”  

Harry had never been to the cinema as the Dursleys had never seen a need to take him.  He’d watched movies on the telly, but wondered what it would be like in a big theater.  As this was an opportunity not to be missed, he pushed away the disgruntled thoughts at having been thwarted in his quest for information about his mother, for now.  He smiled at Rinna.  “That would be cool!”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

In the darkness of the movie theater, she tried to collect her thoughts.  When she had woken up that morning on 23 July, Arinna Dunlevy had thought she had a pretty good idea of how the day would play out.  And now, looking back, she realized that not a single quaffle had gone through the hoop.  Her strategy had been sound, so what had happened?  Something had obviously upset her game.  

It had started with that album.  She hadn’t been prepared to see everyone she loved looking so carefree and beautiful and alive.  That’s what had started the mortar crumbling.  And then Harry’s questions, and his eyes…hungry for any tidbit about his mother… _Don’t need to use Veritaserum on me, oh no.  Just put Harry Potter in front of me and I’ll spill my guts till I pass out from the pain._ Well, that had begun the breaking of the bricks.  

And then more questions, tearing at that place in her heart that she thought was dead, that she had tried to kill…Her fingernails dug into her palms as her hands became fists in anger.  She had spent almost 13 years carefully constructing the fortress around her heart, an impenetrable wall made from bricks of determination and denial and cemented by discipline and torment…and for what?  To have the wall start to crumble so quickly, so innocently, so effortlessly…because of a stripling wizard, a mere slip of a boy?    

Well, she needed to regroup, pull herself together, rebuild.  She sighed.  _New game plan: think about how to give Harry the information he wants, no, needs, without causing further damage to yourself._

She couldn’t put it off for long; Rinna KNEW that sooner or later he would need to be told.  Her eyes slid closed at the thought. Harry needed to know about Lily, about James, about his godfather, and about Rinna’s promise to Harry that she had been unable to keep.

Rinna wondered, and not for the first time that hot summer day, just what exactly she’d gotten herself into… 

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**Author Note:  I crave, crave, CRAVE reviews!  I need to maintain the review levels in my bloodstream or I pass out.  You wouldn't want to be responsible for me fainting, hitting my head on the floor and suffering a concussion, now would you?  Well, I should hope not!  So please, won't you review and save my noggin?  Thanks!**


	3. Reunion

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 3: Reunion**

**Disclaimer:  Well, I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters.  Big surprise, I know.  Any characters you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are my babies.**

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Harry found himself standing in front of the fireplace of a cozy house, his luggage ready.  Rinna had a knapsack on her shoulder and a bakery box in her hand.  “Oh!” she snapped her fingers in annoyance.  “Sorry, this’ll just take a minute,” she apologized to Harry.  

Rinna crossed the room to the telephone and dialed.  “Hullo, Dorrie, it’s Rinna.  Thanks for the use of your car.  The keys are in the trunk so just blast your way in as usual.  Oh, thanks for the briefcase and phone, too.  Everything worked out.  Talk to you soon, luv.”  She rang off and pressed the button on the answering machine beside the phone and spoke, “You have reached the office of Upward Bound UK.  We are sorry we cannot take your call at this time.  Please leave your name, number and message. Your call will be returned as soon as possible.  Thank you.”  She played the message back, and nodded with satisfaction.  “It’s good to cover our bases, don’t you think?”

“They won’t check up on me,” Harry told her.  “They couldn’t care less what happens to me.”

Rinna looked at him appraisingly.  His tone was matter of fact, not full of self-pity.  As if that was all he ever expected from his family.  _He deserves so much better,_ she thought.  _At least I knew Mother loved me.  Harry doesn’t know what that feels like._ Then sipping past her embattled defenses came the quisling thought: _And it is your fault…_

“So…you ready?” she said brightly.  Harry nodded.  He shoved his trunk and Hedwig’s cage into the fireplace, which at some point had started burning.  She handed him a canister and he took a handful of powder.  “The Burrow!” and with that the luggage disappeared in a roar of flames.  Harry, then Rinna, quickly followed.   

Rinna emerged from the fireplace into controlled chaos.  Harry was being attacked by several red-headed people and a girl with brown hair.  Bemusedly, she stood by and looked around the living room.  _Looks almost the same…_ And suddenly she was in the fierce embrace of a forty-ish plump woman.  “Welcome back, luv,” Molly whispered in her ear and gave her a peck on the cheek.  

Rinna staggered as Molly Weasley abruptly let her go, only to be caught up by a tall man with thinning ginger hair.  “Good to see you, old girl!” Arthur said as he bussed her other cheek.  

When Arthur released his bear hug, Rinna opened her eyes to find many sets of eyes looking at her.  _Well those are the twins, obviously.  They are turning out handsome.  And that must be Ronald…and the youngest one…but where are…_

“Percy!  Charlie!  Bill!”  bellowed Molly up the staircase.  “Get down here, our company’s arrived!”

More handsome boys clattered downstairs and crowded into the room.  Harry was introduced to Charlie and Bill who were both on holiday from their work.  They shook hands with Harry.  Harry immediately liked both of them.  He thought Bill was very cool with his ponytail and earring.  Charlie was stocky and muscular from his work with dragons in Romania, and he had a friendly, inviting face. 

Percy pompously extended his hand to Harry, “Good to see you again, Harry.”  Ron rolled his eyes and Fred and George shoved Percy aside and began taking turns pumping Harry’s hand. 

“Jolly good to see you, old chap.”  

“Yes, absolutely smashing to have you here.”  

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, mate.”  

“Give us a kiss, won’t you, Harry?”

“Boys!” admonished Arthur, but he was smiling.  “Leave off.”

The chatter died down as everyone became aware again of Rinna’s presence in the room.  Bill broke into a broad smile.  “Arinna Dunlevy, I have had a crush on you for over fifteen years and seeing you now merely fans the flames of my humble adoration!”  He strode over as he spoke and pulled her into a big hug.  

Rinna grinned as he released her and grabbed him by the shoulders.  “Well, Bill Weasley, I dare say you’ve turned into quite a charmer!”

“Oh no, not a charmer,” he replied, “Curse-breaker.”

“Give over!” Charlie shouldered his brother out of the way and enfolded Rinna in another rib-crushing squeeze.  Then he took her hand and bowed gallantly over it.  “I must confess, dear lady, that when last I saw you, all girls had cooties, and you were no exception.”  Rinna laughed and Charlie grinned cheekily at her.  “However, I will now amend my assessment of you.  You are magnificent.”  

“Ah, here’s the charmer!”  Rinna smiled.  “No wonder you do so well with the dragons, Charlie!”  

Bill gave a guffaw, and slapped Charlie on the back.  Molly and Arthur joined Charlie, Bill and Rinna in laughter, unaware for a moment that everyone else in the room was struck motionless in shock.  

_It feels good to laugh,_ Rinna realized, and she was struck by a sharp pang of _what?  Homesickness?  This family is the closest thing to normalcy I ever had._   The thought plucked a chord deep in her buttressed heart: _I miss this…_

She looked around.  Percy had a puzzled frown on his face, the rest of the Weasley children (and the brown haired girl) had their mouths open in astonishment at this stranger their brothers were hugging and flirting with.  Harry’s expression was torn between amusement and curiosity.  

The moment was, well, awkward.  

Rinna cleared her throat.  “I don’t suppose Percy remembers me much,” she began, “he was five when I left.  The twins certainly won’t…”

“This one’s Fred and this is George,” Molly pointed.  “Here is Ron, he’s the same age as Harry, of course, and here’s our Ginny.”  Rinna shook hands with each one.

Feeling that Hermione was being left out, Harry jumped in, “This is my friend, er, Ron’s and my friend, Hermione Granger.”

As they shook hands, Hermione asked, “And how is it you know Harry, then?”

“Come, come, it looks like we’ll be doing a lot of talking.  Let’s at least all sit down,” said Arthur, shooing everyone to take a seat in the living room.  

Bursting with curiosity, Ginny boldly asked Rinna, “Who are you?”

“This is Arinna Dunlevy, dear.” Molly replied.  “Let’s see, your mum and I were second cousins, right, Rinna dear?”  Rinna nodded.  “So that makes you all third cousins.”

The silence that followed was remarkable because it was probably the quietest moment heard in the Burrow in years.  _Clearly I wasn’t mentioned to the younger ones._   Rinna sighed mentally.  _Not that I blame Molly and Arthur, really.  It was probably easier not to have to explain everything…_

Shrugging off the little spasm of hurt, Rinna picked up where Molly left off:  “Your parents took me in after my mum died.  I lived here a few years before…”  She faltered.  “Before I left England.”  

After another few awkward moments and curious glances around, everyone began talking at once and the Weasley home descended again into the typical pandemonium usually associated with it.

______________________________________________________________________________

Dinner had been set up in the shade of the backyard garden, but not before a fine show of dueling tables by Charlie and Bill.  Accompanied by Mrs. Weasley’s fine cooking, the dinnertime conversation had meandered from cauldron bottoms to the Quidditch World Cup to Bill’s earring and hairstyle.  Several times Bill or Charlie had tried to coax Rinna into telling of her adventures abroad, but to Harry’s disappointment, she had managed to be interrupted each time.  Harry was sitting too far away to bring up any questions of his own.   

As the garden began to darken, Charlie, Bill and Arthur conjured candles to light the way through dessert, which consisted of pastries Rinna had brought.  Harry sat back, contentedly full and rather tired, and listened to Mr. Weasley discuss the morning plan of going to the Wizarding Museum of National History.  Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to go until Ron waxed enthusiastic about it.  Hermione, of course, was beside herself with excitement.  

Percy excused himself to return to a report for work; the twins applauded his departure and catcalled loudly after him, blowing kisses and bellowing that they would miss him terribly.  Molly scolded them and poured the tea without skipping a beat.  Everyone leaned back and enjoyed the sounds of crickets chirping and gnomes giggling as Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, chased them through the garden.  A pleasant breeze perfumed the air with the smell of honeysuckle and fresh grass.  Ginny fell asleep.  Harry found himself dozing a bit, and finally Arthur noted the time was late and sent the teenagers to bed with the warning they were getting up early.

Harry got up and stretched and walked to Rinna’s chair.  “Well, goodnight.”  

She looked at him through heavy lidded eyes.  “Goodnight, then, Harry.  And don’t worry, we’ll talk again soon.”

She watched him go into the house, then heaved herself up from the chair.  “Molly, shall I give you a hand with all of this?”  Molly smiled appreciatively in response and accepted the offer.

When the clean up was done, Molly and Rinna were finally alone in the kitchen.  Rinna found her knapsack and pulled out an album bound in deep green leather.  She turned to Molly, her face flushed and her voice hushed, almost reverent, “I brought this to show Harry, so he could see pictures of Lily when she was young.”

Molly smiled.  “I remember how you’d spend evenings working on that album at this very table.  I think it was one of the only truly girly things you did.”  Rinna snorted and ran her hand over the smooth cover.

“Harry showed me an album he had today,” she remarked.  Then, more quietly, “It had pictures of all of us, Molly.  Lily, James, me, Remus…and…and Sirius.”  Molly remained silent, but put her arm around the younger woman’s shoulders.  Rinna’s voice had dropped to a whisper.  “It nearly tore me apart to look at them…”

Molly squeezed her shoulders tightly.  Molly had no illusions of knowing what Rinna was going through.  She had not been privy to all of the circumstances that led up to the night of the Potters’ deaths and Rinna’s eventual departure from England.  Certainly, she had some ideas based on observations and outside information, but Rinna had stopped confiding in Molly at the age of 19, when she had outgrown the need for mothering, and long before any of those events.  The best that Molly could ascertain tonight was that Rinna had not healed from her wounds, and the damage appeared to run deep.  

Rinna trusted Molly.  This dear woman hadn’t pressed for explanations, did not scold for too-infrequent letters, and had not demanded that Rinna re-establish communications when she had returned three years ago.  She had let Rinna go and be her own woman, no questions asked.  

Rinna respected that, and admired the gumption it took to take on a sixteen-year-old girl marred by trauma, angst and rebellion.  She knew she’d not been easy on the Weasleys.  Despite that, they had always made her feel welcome and safe.  _Maybe this is the place, in the presence of this woman, in this house, where I can open up this album and…NO!_ shouted the protective part of her mind, _don’t do it!  It will hurt…_

“I know what I will see when I open this,” Rinna said softly.  “I’m prepared to see Lily…but I don’t think I can look at any pictures of him…” her voice quavered.

Molly thought she understood.  “Perhaps a concealment charm…over certain pictures only?”

Rinna’s eyes snapped to Molly’s.  “That’s brilliant!  I could do that…”  She took out her wand and began an incantation.  When she had finished she looked again at Molly.

“Molly, do you think I’m a terrible coward?”

“For what?  Avoiding certain memories by concealing photographs?”  She sighed.  “I would never accuse you of cowardice, Arinna Dunlevy, but I am concerned that you seem to push away all your feelings.”

“What do you mean?” Rinna frowned.

“I spent the entire evening watching you sidestep any conversations that might bring up memories, dodge questions about your time abroad, avoid Harry altogether…it was an impressive display.  I rather thought I was at a Quidditch match watching you evade bludgers.”

“Ouch.”  Rinna groaned and sat down heavily in a chair, leaning forward until her forehead lightly smacked the table.  It was a move so reminiscent of the teenaged Rinna that Molly couldn’t help but smile.  “All right,” came her voice, muffled by the table, “let me have it.”

Molly was slightly taken aback.  “Have what?”

Rinna turned her head on the table so one eye was looking at Molly and smiled a bit ruefully, “The infamous, ‘Molly Weasley Lecture’ that I probably deserve many, many times over.  Merlin knows I’ve managed to avoid it for thirteen years now.  I’m about due, don’t you think?”

“Well,” Molly tutted, busying herself with wiping her hands on her apron and casting a sly sideways glance at the young witch, before sitting down next to her, “all right then, but remember, Dearie, you asked for it.”  Rinna huffed out a little laugh as Molly grasped her hand affectionately.  “Rinna dear, you can’t just stop yourself from feeling.  It’s no good.  Besides, if you don’t feel, how do you know you are alive?”

Rinna sat up and gently squeezed Molly’s hand before pulling her own away. “To be honest, Molly, I don’t think I am.  Alive, I mean.  I swear sometimes I feel like a walking corpse.  Empty.”

“Why would you even want to continue this way?”

“Because it is safe.”  Rinna combed her fingers through her hair in frustration.  “I’m safe from feeling; safe from emotions…Do you know what happens when I allow myself to feel anything?  I start to feel the guilt, and when I feel the guilt, then I start to feel the pain…and I’m so afraid of the pain, Molly…”  

Rinna dropped her head in her hands.  It really had been a long and tiring day.  She had to be insane to be having this conversation now, after all the struggles she’d had with her emotions this day.  But the dam was breached, and the words continued to spill.  

“I’m afraid that I won’t be able to stand the pain, and I’ll end up back in St. Mungo’s…like before…”

Molly took the younger woman in her arms.  “Rinna, luv, you need to let it out; you need to cry, scream, something…It is not healthy to keep it all locked away inside you like this all these years…”

Rinna pulled back.  “No, I’m fine.  I don’t need to cry.  I have everything under control.  I will NOT be weak!” she said fiercely.

“Dear girl, crying isn’t a sign of weakness.  It’s a sign that you are human.”

Molly watched as Rinna silently disengaged from the conversation.  Her body language spoke volumes.  _She’s gotten quite skilled at that.  I guess the lecture is over._ Molly reached over and squeezed her hands, “I dare say I’ve scared you off from an invitation for dinner again tomorrow?” 

“What?  Oh, no.  I mean, no you didn’t scare me off.  I did promise Harry I’d tell him more about his mum.”  Rinna looked at the abandoned album.  “Can I leave this here for Harry to look through if he wants?”  Seeing Molly nod, she added, “It would be easier if I didn’t have to look at the pictures with him, at least, not yet.”  _You **are** a coward, Rinna girl._  “What time tomorrow, then?”

“Oh anytime in the afternoon.” Molly stood up and opened her arms.  

Rinna looked up into her face, then stood, reaching in and accepting the older woman’s embrace.   “Thank you, Molly.  For everything,” she whispered.  

“Any time, luv, any time.”  

_______________________________________________________________________________

Hermione smelled a mystery and was determined to solve it with Harry and Ron playing Watson to her Holmes.  Lounging in their pajamas, the three were engaged in deep discussion in the room Harry and Ron were sharing.  “So who is she, Harry?” she asked.

“Weren’t you listening, Mione?” teased Ron.  “I’m surprised you didn’t dig out some parchment and start taking notes down there.”

“I didn’t need to,” she smirked as she pulled out a rather impressive looking quill and blank parchment.  “I saved my allowance for this.”  She touched the quill with her wand and it began writing a transcript of all the conversations she had heard that evening.  “It’s a Transcription Quill.  Now I don’t have to worry about gaps in my notes in class.  I can check them against this.”

“You have this quill, but you’re still going to take notes?  You’re completely mental, you know.” Ron rolled his eyes at her.  Hermione stuck out her tongue at him.   The Transcription Quill finished its work with a flourish and settled on the parchment.

“It’s nice and fast,” Hermione noted with satisfaction.  She picked up the parchment and began skimming it.  _Harry is being awfully quiet_.  She looked up at him; reading puzzlement and worry on his face.  “Harry?  Are you all right?” she frowned with concern.

“I’m just thinking about your question, Mione,” he said thoughtfully.  “I met her only twelve hours ago.”

“And she said she had been best friends with your mum…”

“That’s right,” he clarified.

Ron asked, “How do y’know it’s true?”

Harry flashed a grateful look at Ron.  As the day had worn on, he’d felt more and more like a cad for questioning Rinna’s integrity.  But here was Ron, questioning it too.  Harry didn’t feel so bad about it now.  

“She showed me a picture…here, let me get it.”  Harry found his discarded jeans and pulled the picture from his pocket.  He handed it to Ron; Hermione crowded in to get a better look.  

“Blimey,” said Ron, “they look like sisters…”

Hermione nodded.  “They certainly look like very good friends…”

“I found a picture of her in my album, too.  The one Hagrid gave me.”

“Let’s see it!”  the other two said in unison.  Harry went to his trunk and pulled out his album.  It changed to normal size.  

“That’s wicked!”  admired Ron.  “How’d you get it to do that?”

“I didn’t.  Rinna charmed my trunk somehow.  It was weird, though.  I never saw her use a wand.  She never even went to my room.”

Hermione meditated on this new information.  “I wonder how powerful a witch or wizard has to be in order to work magic on an object they can’t even see, or have never seen?” she mused. 

Harry had flipped to the page with the dancing.  He pointed to the edge of the picture where Professor Lupin had just dipped the red-dressed Rinna.  They watched the picture cycle through a few times.  

“I wonder if she and Professor Lupin were going out,” said Hermione.

“Why is it that girls always want to find some sort of romantic relationship in everything?”  Ron asked the ceiling.

“Why is it boys can be thick as posts sometimes?”  Hermione also consulted the all-knowing ceiling.  

“Why can’t we stick to the topic at hand?”  Harry rolled his eyes at his two friends.

”Right, sorry,” said Hermione.  “The topic is…Arinna and Lily were best friends.  That’s all we know about her.”

They were quiet for a few moments.

“Well it’s rather odd that you’ve never heard of her or met her before, don’t you think?” Hermione asked.

“But I’d never heard of Sirius either, until last year.  No one wanted to tell me about him because…”

Hermione finished his thought, “Because they didn’t want you to know he ‘betrayed’ your parents!”

“So do you think she did something?  Something no one wants to tell you about, because it is so awful?”  Ron asked.

Hermione clicked her tongue at him, “Honestly, Ron!  Like your parents would let her in their house if she had done something awful!”  Another thought struck her, “She said your folks took her in and she lived here a few years…why is it they never told you younger kids about her?”

“And for that matter, why didn’t they tell me about her?” Harry chimed in.  He started to get a little upset about that.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley of all people should know how much he wanted to learn more about his parents.  But they did not tell him of the existence of Lily’s best friend?  They had to have known that Arinna and Lily were chums.

“All right, let’s look at this logically,” Hermione stated.

“Is there any other way for Mione to look at it?” Ron stage whispered, attempting to lighten the mood.

“I heard that, you know.”  She began jotting notes.  “She claims to be your mum’s best friend.  She also happens to be related to Ron.  But neither of you have heard of her before today.  She mentioned that when she had left England, Percy was five.  He’s eighteen now, right?  Mrs. Weasley said she had been back almost three years…so that means she had been gone for almost ten years…”

“What was she doing all that time?”  Ron wondered.  “Hey, maybe everyone thought she was dead!  That’s why no one spoke about her…”

“But then why wasn’t Harry told about her when she returned to England?”

“Hang on!  She came back here the same year we started going to Hogwarts!” Harry pointed out.

“So what’s the connection?” asked Ron.

Harry raked his hands through his hair in frustration.  “I don’t know.  We need more information!”  

He was tired, cranky and more than a little put out that vital information was being kept from him... _again_.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley knew this woman; Professor Dumbledore apparently knew her…even Professor Lupin, judging from the way he held her when they danced, knew her!  _I respect each of these people and I think they want the best for me.  Why would they…Wait!_

Harry snapped his fingers. “Sirius!”

Hermione and Ron looked at him, perplexed.  “Don’t you see?” he said excitedly, “If my mum and dad knew her, and Professor Lupin knew her, then Sirius must have known her, too!  She told me she knew all the Marauders.”  He commandeered Hermione’s bag, searching for blank parchment and a quill.  “I’ll owl him and ask him for information…”  

“Harry,” Hermione’s voice was gentle, and worried, “he might not be able to tell you much…during the time in question, he was in Azkaban.”  Her heart stung as she watched Harry’s excitement deflate like a popped balloon.  “But it would be worth asking him about it,” she added helpfully.  

“Yeah.  It would be.”  He resumed his writing.  At least he was taking action, and it did make him feel better to be writing to his godfather.  _Maybe someday, when circumstances are better, I could live with Sirius…_ Harry let himself indulge in this newest fantasy.  For a few brief, delightful minutes at the end of the term, Harry’s wish had almost come true, but Sirius had had to go on the lam again and that squelched any hope of having a new family, at least for this summer… He finished his note.

The trio crept down the stairs to the living room where three owls were quietly roosting. After dispatching Hedwig with an admonition to keep Sirius’ whereabouts secret, Harry turned and glanced into the kitchen.  

Sitting invitingly on the table was a rather large book…

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**A/N:  Hey!  I appreciate that you took the time to read this, and I hope you enjoyed it!  If you did, would you take a moment and leave a review?  I would really love to hear from you.  And even if you didn’t care for my story…I still want to hear your opinion.  I can’t improve my writing skills if I don’t know what I should work on, right?**


	4. Retrospection

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 4:  Retrospection**

**Disclaimer:  Well, I still don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters.  Not for lack of desire, mind you.  It’s just that she got to them first!  Any characters, spells, or places you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are products of my fertile imagination.**

**____________________________________________________________________**

Harry didn’t know how long he had sat at the kitchen table, turning pages, eyes devouring pictures of his mother.  He ignored the people she was posed with, ignored the elegant writing under or near the photos providing details of the events the photos portrayed.  All he wanted to see was his mum.  And, of course, his dad, because later on in the album James was featured too.  Harry was too tired to do more than look tonight; he promised himself that tomorrow he’d read the stories about his parents that Rinna had captured in her refined handwriting.  

He was coming to the last few pages when his eyes were arrested by a large picture of a red-headed woman holding a baby whose dark hair stuck out in all directions.  The woman was clearly entranced by the infant in her arms, cooing and laughing and reverently touching the little hands and feet.  The woman turned as if answering a remark from the invisible photographer and looked Harry in the face.  She was not his mother.

A sudden realization swept over Harry, his spine prickling with the implications: _could she be…_ and he wished that he had allowed Ron and Hermione talk him into going upstairs instead of insisting he sit at the table and look through the album tonight, because he knew, **knew** without a doubt, that he would not be sleeping now.

His eyes were drawn to a letter on the facing page written in Rinna’s hand on a scrappy piece of parchment.  Whereas he had ignored all of the other captions and notes, he felt compelled to read this one.

_Sweet Baby Harry,_

_You are less than 15 minutes old and I finally get to hold you in my arms!  I am immediately smitten, and I start talking to you and you look at me so intently, I am sure you understand completely all that I am saying.  Your mum insists that I write down everything I have said to you, and she eventually wrenches you away from me and your dad hands me a scrap of parchment…so I’ve decided to write you this letter:_

_Hello, precious one!  You are the most amazing little creature I’ve ever seen.  You are very loved; do you realize that?  I will always love you, and I promise you that anytime you need your Auntie Rinna, for whatever reason, I will be there for you.  I will love you like you are my own little boy, and some day you will be the “big brother” to my children.  No matter what, you will always have a special place in my heart._

_May you grow to be a man of integrity and wisdom and grace—like your dear mum and dad.  My fervent wish for you is that you have as dear friends as your parents are to me.  Precious things are very few in this world, and deep friendship is a priceless gift._

_You are so tiny, so precious.  No one else has ever put my heart in motion this way…like it was missing a beat until you were put in my arms.  How can I fall head over heels over someone I just met?  I never believed in love at first sight, until this moment.  Harry James Potter, I wonder if you’ll ever realize how much you already have me wrapped around your tiny little finger._

_I will always be_

_your loving godmother,_ _Arinna Dunlevy_

Harry sucked in his breath sharply and fell back against the chair, stunned.  It wasn’t the fact that Rinna was his godmother that surprised him; that actually made sense, now that he thought about it.  She had been his mum’s best friend just as Sirius had been his dad’s.  (He was momentarily puzzled by her lack of declaring herself to him, but the thought was quickly pushed aside.)

What did leave him astounded was the sheer mushiness of the letter.  Harry had never read a note like that directed at **him** before.  The words swam before his eyes… _precious one…place in my heart…love at first sight…you are very loved…_ No one had ever told him he was loved like this.

Sure, he knew that Hermione loved him, and Ron.  He knew the Weasleys were very fond of him.  Yet none of that kind of love felt like the love he read on this page.  He’d be hard pressed to describe just what kind of love it was, but he knew it was different, and it was lacking in his life.  It was like… a mother’s love that had been poured into that parchment.  He had difficulty wrapping his head around it.  

Harry realized just how inadequate the word “love” really was; it was used to describe so many different feelings.  (He vaguely remembered Hermione telling him that there were five different words for love in Greek.)  He sat, somewhat astonished, for quite some time.

Eventually he realized he also had difficulty with the incongruence of the Rinna in the picture and letter and the Rinna he had met today.  Not that he expected that she should have fallen all over him gushing and whatnot, but she was just so, well, detached…aloof…off-putting.  He could not imagine this woman writing the letter he just read…

The lateness of the hour (well after midnight) and the excitement of the day (yesterday, actually) started to overtake the conundrum that was niggling at his mind.  He laid his head on the table for a moment to collect his thoughts and was stealthily overtaken by the black depths of sleep.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Molly yawned her way down to the kitchen to start on breakfast and pack the picnic lunch for the culmination of this morning’s outing.  She was startled to find Harry face down on the table; the album Rinna had left was open by his head.  _Did she place an Enticement on that scrapbook?_ Molly shook her head at the thought.  _No, Rinna wouldn’t have done that.  I hope.  Harry was probably feeling peckish in the night and found it on his midnight raid of the pantry._

Molly moved closer to Harry and the page he had been looking at commanded her attention.  The picture of Rinna and Harry was a poignant memento of a relationship that should have happened.  She glanced to the letter on the facing page, and read it, tears springing to her eyes.  _Rinna had been all atwitter at the prospect of being Harry’s godmother, often joking about making all her mothering mistakes on him, so her children would turn out perfect.  She had had a knack with children; the boys had all adored her.  It was such a shame…_ Molly paused to mourn for the surrogate grandchildren she had dreamed would come from Rinna, but were not meant to be.

Wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her dressing gown, she reached down and gently shook Harry’s shoulder.  “All right, Harry?”  He jerked awake and looked around, disoriented.  “You have an odd taste in pillows, Dearie.” Molly teased.  

Harry rubbed the red spot on the bridge of his nose where his glasses had pressed.  “Sorry,” he muttered, “must’ve fallen asleep…”

“No doubt you’ll have a crick in your neck from sleeping like that.  Why don’t you go up and take first crack at a nice hot shower?  After you’re dressed, you might even have a chance at forty winks before breakfast.”  She ruffled his hair and shooed him with her hands.  Harry reached for the album, then hesitated.  “Go on and take it up with you,” Molly suggested, “She brought it for you to look at.”

Harry nodded and took the album, and, stifling a yawn, groggily staggered out of the kitchen.

\----- -----

Breakfast was mayhem, as usual.  George and Fred had charmed the griddle to rather forcefully hurl the finished flapjacks onto each person’s plate.  It would have been a useful spell, to be sure, had the flapjacks been charmed to dodge obstacles, but, as it was, most everyone ended up momentarily wearing his or her breakfast.  Hermione leaned forward conspiratorially to Harry, using Molly’s tirade against the twins for cover, and whispered, “Did you find out anything useful?”  

Ron pricked up his ears.  “Yeah, mate, you didn’t even make it to bed.  Must have been pretty interesting.”

“You didn’t go to bed last night at all?” Hermione hissed reprovingly.  “Harry, that was very foolish.  Now you will be grumpy and no fun at all.”

Ron protested, “Mione, that’s not fair!  If we were at Hogwarts and Harry had pulled an all-nighter studying, you’d be fawning all over him right now and cooing about his dedication to his academic pursuits.”

“First of all, you prat, I do not coo.  And secondly…”

“Actually I did fall asleep on the table,” Harry interrupted their squabble with a grin.  Then he dropped his voice lower, “but I did find out something…”

“What are you three up to?” came the sharp voice of Molly Weasley.

“Er, nothing, Mum,” Ron said hastily.  “I was telling them about the wing at the Museum that’s devoted entirely to Quidditch.”  Harry looked at Ron with interest and raised his eyebrows inquiringly.  Ron nodded.  Hermione let out a sigh that indicated she was suffering under the boys’ obsession for the game.

Charlie jumped into the conversation with enthusiasm.  “It really is a brilliant exhibit, Harry.  I could spend hours in that section.”

“As you have proven many times in the past,” Molly said tartly.  “Now hop to, everyone!  The morning is wasting!”

Despite being bone-tired, Harry enjoyed the outing to the Wizarding Museum of National History, particularly when they found the section that was dedicated to the history of Quidditch.  Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George and Charlie grinned like hippogriffs in a meat locker, and never even realized they had been abandoned until the rest of the group came back to round them up for lunch.

In the shade of a tree in the plaza next to the Museum, the trio munched on their picnic lunches.  “What did you find out, Harry?  The suspense was killing me all morning,” asked Ron around bites from his sandwich.

“Oh please,” Hermione rolled her eyes.  “I’ll wager you forgot all about it while you were in the Quidditch section, both of you.”  The boys looked at each other sheepishly.  Hermione was on the mark as usual.  

“I found out that…”  Harry was not unappreciative of the effect a good dramatic pause could have.  A brown head and a red head moved closer to the brunet.  “She’s my godmother,” he finished simply.

“Of course,” Ron snapped his fingers, “that makes sense.  Sirius was your dad’s best mate and he is your godfather…”

Hermione finished the thought.  “And Arinna was your mum’s best friend, so she’s your godmother!”  The kids were silent for a moment.

“But what doesn’t make sense,” said Ron with a frown, “is why she didn’t take you after…you know.”

Hermione lips made a little moue of frustration.  Harry grimaced and ran his hands through his dark hair.  “That’s what I’d like to know,” he grumbled.

_______________________________________________________________________________

The afternoon proved to be another warm one, and the teens sought refuge on the porch playing various wizarding card games.  George and Fred taught them the latest craze in Wizards Poker called Transylvania Hold ‘Em.  The combination of heat and lack of sleep caught up with Harry, and he opted to nap on the hammock, seeing as he was momentarily safe from the twins’ pranks; they were busy raking in their winnings.  Finally the game was called as Fred and George had taken every last piece of Honeydukes candy that Ron and Hermione owned.  Harry woke up, declined a game of Exploding Snap with Hermione and Ron, and fetched the photo album instead.

Harry sat under a tree in the back yard, back against the thick trunk, album on his lap.  He was reading the captions and bits of journaling that accompanied the pictures.  Rinna apparently possessed a sly wit, even as a youngster, and many funny or embarrassing anecdotes were documented.  Harry especially enjoyed the bits of information he got about his parents… _Curious…I see Mum, Dad, Rinna, Professor Lupin and even Pettigrew, but where are pictures of…_

“Hullo, Harry.”  A glass of lemonade appeared before Harry’s eyes as Rinna handed it to him, then sat down next to him with her glass and a bowl of pretzels.  “Found the album, then?”  She offered the bowl to him.  “It was a bit cowardly of me, I know.”  Harry turned a quizzical look to her.  “To just leave it, not look through it with you,” she explained.

Actually, Harry was glad to have been able to look through it alone; he’d liked having those private moments with his parents.  But, he was irritated that she had not been forthright with him yesterday.  _Why didn’t she just tell me she was my godmother?_   So he decided to take a little dig.

“That was very un-Gryffindor-like of you,” he admonished.

A memory came to Rinna suddenly and clearly as the day it happened; a memory of turning to four teenaged boys, pausing and saying, “How very Gryffindor-like of you.”  She shook her head to clear the vision.  _Where had that come from, after all these years?_

She smiled regretfully at him.  “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”  She sighed and leaned against the tree trunk, closing her eyes and gathering her courage around her like a cloak.  _All right, Harry m’lad, bring it on.  I’m ready for this…I think._

Harry heaved a frustrated sigh when, once again, explanations did not come tumbling from her lips. Not that he was surprised. However, he was shrewd enough to realize that he would likely lose in a game of silent waiting to see who would crack first.  After all, she was reluctant to give up any information, and he was eager to extract it, so he cast her a sideways glance and said rather petulantly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“That I’m your godmother?”  She huffed out a long breath, blowing the hair off her forehead.  _I certainly don’t deserve that title now, do I?_   She lifted her head, opened her eyes and looked at Harry, her face impassive.  “I suppose that I didn’t want to disappoint you, having to tell you that you had yet another godparent who had failed to come through for you…”

She pulled the album out of Harry’s grasp and flipped to the page with the letter to the infant Harry.  She handed it back to him and pointed to the second paragraph of her letter.  Harry re-read it.  

Harry looked up at her when she whispered, “I promise you that anytime you need your Auntie Rinna, for whatever reason, I will be there for you.”  Her voice was choked with regret, bitterness and pain.   “I wasn’t there when you needed me, Harry.”  She was unaware of crushing a pretzel to powder in her hands.  “It tears me apart to look at you and have to admit that I was unable to keep my promise to you.” 

“Why?” he whispered, “What happened?” 

Now her voice rose a little in agitation.  “ _That night_ happened,” she said bitterly.  “Your parents were killed, you somehow survived and Voldemort’s power was somehow negated.  Hagrid took you away on Dumbledore’s orders…”

“But where were you?  Why didn’t you take me in?” His voice was threaded with anger and despair.

Rinna threw her head back against the tree, connecting with a little thump and squeezing her eyes shut against the memories.  “I never made it to Godric’s Hollow, Harry.  At the time the Dark Lord’s curse was recoiling off of you, I was…uh, his reluctant guest in some dungeon of his, bound by curses and spells…”

“Oh.”  What more could he say? He digested this startling information. He jerked up his head in surprise when she continued, her voice once again stoic.

“You apparently saved my life.  All of the magical bonds and compulsions I was under disappeared in that moment of defeat.  I was found in the gardens of the manor where I was being held; I was crawling in an attempt to get to all of you, under some delusion that I could somehow stop what had happened.”

Harry was horrified by the pictures her words conjured in his mind.

There was a long pause.  “By the time I had sufficiently recovered and learned that you were still alive, you had already been placed with your aunt’s family.”  

Something in Harry snapped.  _All my life I have been abandoned by every adult who was supposed to have cared for me.  No one was there for me. My parents died, my godfather gets sent to prison, my mum’s own family treat me like scum, and my godmother…_ He turned to face her, eyes flashing and jaw set.

“And that’s it?”  Harry spat furiously, “you just gave up and left me with them?  What happened to that special place in your heart that I had?”   Rinna looked at him, dumbstruck, eyes wide.  “Why didn’t you fight for me?”

And just as suddenly, the storm was over.  Harry slumped his head into his hands and said quietly, “Of course, I know why…Sirius was my legal guardian, not you.”  

Rinna blinked and took a deep breath.  She had been prepared for something such as this.  Or so she thought.  Preparation did not stop his words from tearing at her heart, and worse…clawing at memories…

_It would be so easy to just let it end here, let him think a simple legality prevented me from taking him in._   Unfortunately, Harry’s outburst had awoken in Rinna one of her gifts that had become a casualty of her ruthless campaign to keep memories and pain away: her keen sense of empathy.  She knew what it felt like to have a parent die.  She knew the pain of abuse by ones you were supposed to trust for protection.  She understood the sense of abandonment that Harry must be feeling.

_I can’t leave it like this; it would be a lie._   Harry needed to understand why she hadn’t fought for him.  _There is no getting around it, then, Rinna.  You need to belt up and tell him about St. Mungo’s._

_________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N:  Thanks for reading!  I hope you enjoyed it.  I really would like to hear your thoughts about this chapter, or the story in general, so…go to the “review” button and leave a review.  I’d be thrilled to hear from you!**

**A note about the album:  I am a scrapbooker.  It is one of my hobbies.  Unfortunately I don’t get much time to do it these days, especially since I am writing.  So…if I can’t do my hobby, I will just write about it and live vicariously through Rinna’s album right now.  If you are a scrapbooker you can probably imagine what her album might look like, with journaling and ephemera and embellishments.  If you are not a scrapbooker, whatever you do, DO NOT get started doing it!  It is addictive, expensive and leads to obsessive behavior.  You have been warned.**


	5. Explanations and Broomsticks

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 5: Explanations and Broomsticks**

**Disclaimer:  Well, I still don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters.  Not for lack of desire, mind you.  It’s just that she got to them first!  Any characters, spells, broomsticks or places you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are products of my fertile imagination.**

________________________________________________________________________________

Rinna shifted her position uncomfortably.  “No, there was no legal restriction preventing me from taking you.  If anything was to happen to Sirius, I was next to be your legal guardian.”  She saw Harry open his mouth in reply and interjected, “Harry, please listen to me.  I need you to understand something.”  That whatever-it-was in her voice that compelled him to listen to her was back.  He nodded.

“You must believe me that if it had been in my power to do so, I would have found you and wrenched you away from the Dursleys, Dumbledore’s magic be damned,” she said with ferocity.  “Unfortunately…” her eyes became unfocused as her words drifted to a stop.

She shook her head and started again, “You see, Harry…I was devastated that I hadn’t been able to stop what had happened to your parents, that I couldn’t warn them, or anything.  If I had just made a different choice, if I had…”  Her breath hitched.  She filled her lungs, then blew the air out her mouth, and continued.  “My mind and body were…uh…I was, I was just hanging by a thread to my sanity at that point, when they found me…”  _Merlin, this was arduous!_   

Difficult or no, there was no turning back now.  “Then, when I learned about what happened with, with…with Sirius and Peter…when I was told that Sirius was a traitor and a murderer and was being sent to Azkaban…”  

Again Harry opened his mouth, but she held up her hand to forestall him.  “Well, I just…slipped over the edge of reason.  I was taken to St. Mungo’s… that is, St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.  Have you heard of it?”  Harry nodded, appalled.  “I was there almost three months.”

Memories, hazy and unfocused, encroached on her concentration.  _Remus…was he really there every day? His soothing voice reading…Molly with her new daughter and year-old son in a pram…how could she bear to bring them to such a place?  Dumbledore’s voice, soft and compelling, entreating me to climb out from my dark well of despair…Remus holding my hand, telling me how much he needed his only remaining friend…_

She exerted her will to regain her focus.  “I recovered eventually, but there were questions as to my, uh, my competence to be your…to take you on…fears of my having a relapse, I suppose.  Wouldn’t be good to place a tyke with his barmy godmother, would it?” she laughed mirthlessly.  Harry just gaped at her.

“I knew that you were safe in Petunia’s house, knew the magic that was used to protect you.  You would be out of harm’s way and far more secure there than with me at that point.  I left England a few months after, assured in the knowledge that you were safe, but cognizant that I had utterly failed you.”

She leaned back against the tree trunk and closed her eyes, for the moment completely spent. 

Harry was quiet for a long time; he felt a tightness in his throat that made speech impossible.  If he had been asked to describe what he was feeling right now, he would have said it was like he had been so close to grasping the Snitch…almost had it in his hands…and at the last moment: nothing, nothing but air. 

His face reflected anger and grief.  Once again, he’d learned how close he had been to having a happy childhood, only to have it cruelly snatched away.  He was angry with Rinna; angry with her for being weak, for succumbing to madness when she should have been taking care of him.  And yet, another part of his mind realized that he was being unfair to her.  _She was tortured, you selfish prat, and she lost her best friend…and thought Sirius was a murderous betrayer…_

His eyes moved down to the album on his lap.  _Of course! That’s why there are no pictures of Sirius…she thought he was a traitor and removed them.  But she’s wrong; I need to tell her that Sirius was set up._ Harry glanced at her, not sure if now was the time, but desperately wanting her to know that Sirius was innocent.   

“Sirius Black did not betray my parents.”

She started and opened her eyes.  This was not the response she had expected from him.  “What?”

“I said Sirius Black did not betray my parents.  And he didn’t murder all those people, or Peter Pettigrew.  We found out the truth last month at Hogwart’s.  Do you want me to tell you what happened?”

“Oh,” she whispered, “I already know that.”

Harry had not anticipated this. “You do?  How could you?” he wondered.

“Remus Lupin told me.”  She closed her eyes again. Seizing the opportunity to replace the memories that were currently performing an obscene dance in her head, she let her mind wander to that day last month when Remus had come to her house…  

\----- -----

“Remus!” she was surprised to see him, and took in the damage to his face and disheveled appearance.  “You look like shit.  What the hell happened to you?”  

“Hello, Remus, so nice to see you after almost six months.  Do come in, won’t you, you devilishly handsome man,” he retorted, sarcastically.

Rinna had the grace to blush.  “Sorry, but you woke me up.  I’m feeling a bit waspish at the moment.”  She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.  “Come in, come in.  I’ll put the kettle on.”

“It’s after 10:30 in the morning!  How is it possible that you are just waking up?  Are you hung over?”

She made a face at him.  “Why aren’t you at Hogwarts?  Term’s not over yet.”  She cast a suspicious glance at the wounds on his face. 

He sat at her kitchen table and shrugged.  “I quit.”

This took Rinna by surprise.  “What?”  

“The short version is: word got out that I am a werewolf.  I resigned so that Dumbledore would not have to suffer the process of sacking me.”

Rinna did a quick calculation in her head: the full moon was just past.  “Did you not have your potion?” she asked carefully.  

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Was anyone hurt, besides you I mean?”

Remus thought of Sirius.  “Yes.”

She looked up sharply, “Any students?”

“Thank God, no.  But it was close.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”  Rinna watched as several emotions played across Remus’ face.  There was more to the story, she could tell, but he was reluctant to open up yet.  _Time to graciously offer a way out of the conversation…_ She held up a bottle of fire whiskey.  “Or should we just get drunk?”

He raised his eyebrows.  “Is that such a good idea, what with you being hung over?”

_Ouch!  Changing the subject with a pointed personal remark.  Nice one, Remus_ , she recognized the avoidance maneuver.  She was, after all, a master of those herself.  “What makes you think I am hung over?”

“Well, your incredibly witty and charming personality improves by leaps and bounds when you are.  After your endearing greeting at your door, I just naturally assumed…”

“Bite me, Remy!”  

He grinned and appreciated her use of her old childhood comeback when he would nag at her too much.  He sealed the ritual with the expected witty retort:  “Not the best thing to suggest to a werewolf, luv.”  

He looked her up and down.  “Besides, you’re still in the clothes you wore out last night, unless you are now wearing sequined halter tops and skin tight trousers to bed instead of these cute flannel boxer shorts and T-shirts you used to favor?”  He smirked at her.

She looked down, “Damn!  I meant to change into those.  Must have slipped my mind.”

“I’m worried about you, Rinna.”

“Remus,” she said exasperatedly, “I’m fine.  I am NOT hung over.  I had to work late, double shift, you know.”

He looked at his friend somberly.  _She is absolutely brilliant at Potions, and she is wasting her talent mixing alcoholic concoctions as a bartender._  He took in her face, with the dark circles under her eyes accentuated by smeared makeup and the same taut wariness she had worn since hearing about Sirius’ escape from Azkaban those many months before.  “Well, you look terrible.”

Her eyes snapped in anger.  “Hello, Rinna, so nice to see you after these past six months.  I’ve popped in to insult you and accuse you of being a lush, you incredibly short-tempered shrew.”

Remus was taken aback.  “I’m sorry, Rinna.  It’s none of my business,” he said stiffly.

She felt the anger drain out of her.  “No, I’m sorry.  Of course it’s your business; you’re my oldest friend.  I’m lucky to have someone who cares about me so much.”  She put her hand on his arm.  “Will you forgive me for being such a bitch?”

He took her hand and in a gallant gesture, he kissed it.  “I wouldn’t have you any other way,” he said sincerely.

She pulled her hand away and slapped him lightly on his arm.  “Insufferable git.”  He grinned at her as she retrieved the tea kettle and poured him some tea.

She settled in her seat at the table and looked at him over the rim of the teacup.  “The offer still stands, you know.”

“Talking about it? Or getting drunk with me?”

“Either one, or both.”

Remus sighed.  “Actually, I do need to talk to you.  You need to hear the details.  And I need to talk to you…about Sirius.”

The teacup slid from her hand and sloshed hot tea everywhere.  Her eyes were wide.  “Oh no, Remus,” she whispered, “don’t tell me the Dementors caught him.”  

Remus studied her for a moment.  _Looks like you care about what happens to him more than you like to let on, Rinna dear._   He cleared his throat.  “No, he’s still on the run.  But new details about…about **that night** have been revealed.  There are things you need to know.”

She closed her eyes. She did NOT want to talk about **that night** , nor Sirius Black.  

She heard her refrigerator door open, and was startled to see Remus rummaging through it.  He pulled out a few items and turned to her.  

He knew she wore sexy outfits to work, she told him she got more tips that way, and damn, she sure did them justice.  He needed to concentrate, needed no distractions when he told her his news, and he couldn’t just _tell_ her she was distracting him with all that creamy white skin exposed and the pants hugging her every curve.  He needed a diversion.   

“Look, why don’t you go get cleaned up?  I’ll cook us some breakfast,” he glanced at the clock, “er, brunch, and then we’ll talk.”

_This is very bad, if Remus is stalling like this._   Then she heard his stomach rumble.  _Or, he could just be starving…“_ Right, then.  I’ll just go get cleaned up.”

Remus looked up as he heard her bare feet pad into the kitchen.  She was fresh faced with her cropped hair slightly damp and dressed in jeans and a short sleeved blouse.  Unfortunately, she did not look one bit less attractive, but at least her cleavage wasn’t so blatantly exposed.  He shook his head at these thoughts and set a beautifully prepared omelet in front of her.

She took a bite and moaned appreciatively.  “You know, Remy, that a man who cooks like you is every woman’s fantasy.”

“Is that so?” he snorted in amusement.  “You’ll notice all the women lined up and beating at the door to get to me?”  

“I know someone who is very interested in getting to you,” she grinned conspiratorially.  

He looked at her sharply as his heart did a nervous flip-flop.  “Who could you possibly know who would know me and…”  He gulped.  The only two women she could realistically be referring to were Rinna or…”You couldn’t even remotely be hinting that your former roommate…” His voice trailed off in disbelief.

She chuckled at his discomfiture.  “Oh, but I most certainly am.  She talks about you ad nauseum.”  She smirked when she saw him wiggle uncomfortably in his chair.  “And she already knows all about the werewolf thing.  She seems to have no problem with that.”  Rinna was thoroughly enjoying making Remus squirm.  “She confessed to me she has had a crush on you since the tender age of four when Sirius brought you and James to his cousin’s for a visit…”  

Her voice came to a halt, and she had a troubled look on her face.  Mentioning Sirius’ name had broken the spell of the teasing camaraderie, and reminded them both of the reason for Remus’ visit.

Remus reached out and took her hand and the two friends moved to the couch.  Remus proceeded to relate the entire story of what happened at Hogwarts a few nights before.  He hoped that some of the details might bring Rinna some peace, but knowing her as he did, he suspected that they might just give her more things to feel guilty about instead.

When he was done, he was more than concerned about the ashen look on her face.  She sat there, immobile, with her eyes closed and shoulders slumped.  He wished that just once she would let him take her in his arms and she would cry, because all this keeping-everything-in that she did so effectively was slowly eroding her spirit.  She was one of his old school friends, he loved her dearly, and, frustratingly, it seemed there was nothing he could do to help her.

_Except this_ , he thought, as he got up and went to the kitchen.  He came back with the bottle of fire whiskey and two glasses.  She lifted her head when she heard the clink of the glasses on the coffee table.  “Shall we get drunk now?” he suggested, as he poured.  

\----- -----

“Well, if you already heard it from Professor Lupin, I guess I don’t need to…”

Rinna sprang back to the present.  It occurred to her that if Harry was busy talking, he would be less likely to ask more questions of her.  Surely information that she had already known for a month would not be that painful to hear… “Actually, I would like to hear it from your viewpoint, if you don’t mind.”

Harry was surprised.  “Uh, okay.”  He looked up to the house and saw that Hermione and Ron were still playing some kind of game on the porch.  “Do you mind if Ron and Hermione come over?  To help fill in the story.”

The situation had improved again:  if Harry’s friends joined them, then chances were good Harry would not be asking anymore painfully probing questions of her this evening.  Although Rinna had no doubt that Ron and Hermione would know every detail of her and Harry’s conversation under the tree by the end of the night.  “All right, I don’t mind.  But I think we need to make ourselves more comfortable.  I don’t know about you, but my bum feels completely numb from sitting on the ground.”

Harry managed a half-hearted laugh, and then waved his two friends over.  Meanwhile, Rinna pulled out her wand and conjured four comfortable lounge chairs, two more glasses of lemonade, and refilled hers and Harry’s.  

Rinna actually found herself enjoying the retelling of the story, in a way.  Watching the three kids interact, hearing the story interwoven as it jumped between narrations, learning minute details that Remus had not or could not provide was most interesting.  It was obvious the friendship between the trio was tight; the three practically worked together like a collective consciousness at points.  It made her miss Lily keenly. 

“And then my leg broke in like fifteen places…” Ron was saying.

“Oh, please!”  Hermione rolled her eyes.  “Why is it that each time you tell this part, your fractures multiply exponentially?”

“I was hurt VERY badly,” Ron gritted through his teeth at her.

Harry interjected on Ron’s behalf, “Yeah, Mione, it took Madame Pomfrey several hours to sew Ron’s leg back on!”

“HEY!”  Ron rounded on Harry.  “Don’t you start on me, too!”

Rinna’s chuckle was interrupted by a “Whoof!” as Crookshanks chose that moment to jump on Ron’s stomach.  “Gerroff!” he grumbled as he waved the cat off with his hands.  

Crookshanks walked with great dignity to Rinna’s chaise and tromped partway up her legs.  She extended her hand and he rubbed the side of his face against her fingers.  She trailed her fingers down his back and he meowed at her pleasantly.  “Hrrr-reow,” Rinna trilled back at him.

“Blimey!” cried Ron.  “Don’t tell me you can talk to cats!”

“No, Ron.  That was just the fine art of imitation.” Rinna grinned.  “Ooooh, ouch!” she cried as Crookshanks began to knead his claws on her thigh, purring loudly.  

Hermione apologized profusely, and tried to pull Crookshanks off Rinna’s leg, but he dug in, undeterred.  

“It’s all right, Hermione,” Rinna reassured her as she waved her wand and a pillow appeared beneath Crookshanks' paws.  He didn’t even notice the change.  “There you go, handsome boy,” Rinna told him. He just continued purring as he looked up beatifically into her face. 

After a quiet moment to regroup, the teens were off again on the narrative.  Finally they came to the point where Harry said, “I should tell you about what Professor Trelawney said.”

Rinna asked, “Professor Trelawney?  Who’s that?”

“Our Divination teacher.  She’s an absolute crackpot!”  Hermione explained.  

“But this was different, Hermione,” Harry insisted.  He proceeded to tell them about the incident in the tower classroom, and the prediction the professor had made.

Rinna was deep in thought.  “How did that one part go? ‘The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant’s aid, greater and more terrible than he ever was.’” She mused.

“You can’t possibly believe that it was a legitimate prediction!” Hermione cried.

Rinna turned to her.  “I don’t know Professor Trelawney.  She is new to Hogwarts since I was there.  But I will tell you this: true prophecies DO exist.  Granted, they are subject to the vagaries of human whim and choices, which is why no prophecy is truly set in stone…but…”  Rinna felt a prickle run up her spine.  She would need to look into this.

“I wish I had just killed Pettigrew when I had a chance…” Harry muttered.

“Nonsense, Harry!  You made the right choice.”  Rinna said firmly.  “You said you did not think Lily or James would’ve wanted Sirius or Remus to become killers.  Well the same is true for you.”  She looked thoughtful.  “Besides, you have now spared his life.  He is indebted to you.”  She grinned maliciously.  “The Dark Lord won’t like that one bit.”

“That’s what Professor Dumbledore told me.”  Harry muttered.  Then he added, “He’s the only one besides you that I’ve told about the prophecy.”

“Well then…” Rinna began, but she was interrupted by Molly calling the four of them for dinner.

_________________________________________________________________________________

After a huge dinner and dessert, everyone (but Percy, who again had work to do) went to the living room to sprawl on the rug or the furniture.  Fred draped himself over the armrests of an easy chair and groaned, “I feel like a blood-swollen tick.”

“Oh, thanks for that lovely imagery!” snapped Ginny sarcastically.  “Now I feel sick!”  

“Just don’t hurl on me, little sis!” advised George.  

After some more good natured banter, Bill suddenly sat up and snapped his fingers.  “I almost forgot!”  He turned to Rinna.  “I found an old trunk up in the attic.  I believe it belongs to you.  I’ll just run up and get it.”  He sprinted up the stairs as if he hadn’t just consumed seconds and thirds at dinner, eliciting a groan from many in the room.

Bill came down the stairs with a trunk levitated in front of him.  Rinna’s bemused expression changed to one of slight shock.  She had almost forgotten the trunk, and she certainly remembered why she had left it behind.  She did not want to look through it, not with Harry nearby, ready to spring all kinds of questions on her.  Except…there was one thing in there she knew he’d like to see, Charlie too.  

Bill set it on the coffee table and looked at Rinna.  “Your trunk, m’lady.”  

“Oh, Bill, thanks for going to the trouble of bringing it down.  There really isn’t anything of monumental importance in there: just a bunch of old school things.  I’ll take it home and rummage through it at my leisure.”  

Quite suddenly she was filled with a need to see it, the most precious thing in the chest.  Without consideration she said, “Though there _is_ something in here that I want to check on, to make sure it has weathered storage well.”  Rinna tapped the lock of the trunk with her wand and murmured an incantation.  The lock opened.  She lifted the lid, and reached in.  In her hand was a tiny broom.

She spoke the enlarging charm and suddenly was holding an old model broom that was in excellent condition.  Charlie whistled appreciatively.  

“Is that a Silver Dart?  It’s gorgeous!”  He reached for it, “May I?”

She handed it to him. “Right.  It’s a Silver Dart 1001 LE.” 

The others crowded around Charlie to marvel at the broom.  The light wood had a finish that gave it a silvery sheen, and it was accented with emerald green.  Harry frowned at the Slytherin-like color scheme, but had to admit admiringly that it complemented the broom well.  Carved in the handle, also in green to match, was the name: _Dunlevy_. The broom did not look one bit worse for wear at having been stored for so long.

Rinna watched Charlie, Harry and the others admire the beautiful craftsmanship, and her heart dropped into her stomach.  _Idiot!  What were you thinking, bringing that out?_ She obviously hadn’t been thinking…just caught up in the moment of seeing the beautiful broom again, without weighing the consequences, without thinking of the memories the broom would call up.  The memories that now laid into her gut with stunning force.  

_Handsome face smiling, dark blue eyes lit up with mischief and delight, tantalizing lips saying, “Do you like it?  It practically grabbed me by the neck and screamed ‘I was made for Rinna!’ and I knew I had to get it for you.  Now kiss me and tell me you won’t forget me while you are at Hogwarts.”  His lips warm against hers, her mouth moving against his as she whispered, “You dolt, I’m going to see you every Hogsmeade weekend.  And I love it.”_

“Rinna.  RINNA!”

Startled, she looked up, disoriented and almost dizzy.  “What?”

“I asked if you’d mind if I have a go on her?”  Charlie looked at her eagerly.

Charlie looked so much like the eight-year-old boy she had last seen that she had to laugh.  “All right, then, take ’er up!”

“Me, too?”

“Can I have a go after Charlie?”

“And me?”

Grateful for the distraction, she smiled.  “It is fine with me.  Molly?  Arthur?”

Arthur smiled widely and said, “Everyone outside, then!”  There was a mad scramble for the door, the silvery handle of the Silver Dart flashing in Charlie’s hands.

Molly and Arthur waited for the crush to die down.  Rinna snapped the trunk closed and turned to them.  “Thank you for keeping this for me,” she said quietly.  Her eyes met Molly’s, who read the sadness there.

“We can continue to store it for you, dear, if you want,” Molly said to her.  “It does not take up much space.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose on you anymore.”

“It is not an imposition, you know,” Arthur said pointedly.  “We want you to always consider this your home, Rinna.”

Rinna was reminded, after her conversation with Harry earlier that afternoon, that the magic Albus Dumbledore had placed on Harry and the Dursley home was the same magic that had been used on her and the Weasleys years earlier.  _No wonder I feel so safe here,_ she realized.

Deeply touched, tears welled up in Rinna’s eyes.  “Look, I know I was rough on you, especially at the end…”

“Nonsense!” snapped Arthur.  “You are family; families endure the rough times.  We will always be here for you.”

Nodding in agreement, Molly held out her arms to the younger woman, and Rinna readily stepped into her embrace.  Arthur put his arms around the two of them.  

They remained in this manner for several moments until a loud whoop from outdoors startled them.  “We’d best get outside before your broom is smashed to smithereens!”  Molly suggested with a twinkle in her eye.

Rinna was greeted by the sight of Charlie on the Dart barreling head-first toward the ground in a Wronski Feint-type maneuver.  He leveled out at the last heart-stopping second with another loud whoop.  The assembly clapped and cheered.  He touched down with a flourish, dismounted the broom and walked toward Rinna, grinning broadly.

“Merlin’s broomstick, Rinna, she’s a beaut!  None the worse for wear, either.  You should take it up.”  He handed the broom to her.  “Sorry I didn’t let you have first go,” he said sheepishly.

“I planned it that way, Charlie, so you could check it for safety,” she teased him.

With the broom back in her hands, her stomach did a flip-flop.  She fiercely squelched any more memories, threw her leg over the broom and rocketed straight up into the moonlit sky.  

Up, up, up she went, higher and higher, feeling the wind rush against her skin, stripping away the memories, the pain, the weight of her problems until it felt like she was lighter than air.  How could she have forgotten the exhilaration of flying?  She paused at the apex of her trajectory, hanging in the starry sky, defying gravity for a long moment.  

And then she plunged downward, spiraling and looping, the broom responding like a live thing to her every nuance, flashing like liquid silver in the moonlight.  It was like a ballet, like a dance with a lover, inspiring, invigorating and heady.  She did not want the moment to end.  She closed her eyes and leveled out and allowed the summer night air to caress her face.  

But like a Glamourie Spell, the illusion of weightlessness and freedom came to an end as she sped over the Burrow and saw her audience.  She began a slow turn to take her back to the Weasleys’ yard, dipping and swerving and generally testing the capabilities of the Dart.  Charlie was right; the old broom handled beautifully.  

Harry watched Rinna fly, deep in thought.  She certainly knew how to handle a broom.  He wondered if she had played Quidditch at Hogwarts and grew momentarily irritated that he did not know more about his godmother.  As he watched her circle to land, he was amazed at how happy the expression on her face was, and for a moment, how young she looked.  He recognized the look on her face; it was a look __he__ wore only when practicing or playing Quidditch.  _She loves to fly, just like me_.  He smiled and twitched with anticipation of getting his hands on that broom and flying in the moonlight.

Applause rang in the air as Rinna walked toward Harry, taking in the dreamy smile and twitchy expectation.  Her eyes fastened onto his and for a jarring moment a _connection_ was forged between them; a recognition of what was held in each other’s eyes and countenance.  _When it comes to flying, we are kindred spirits, you and I._

She wore her lovely genuine smile as she placed the broom in Harry’s hands.  “Here, Harry.  Why don’t you see what you make of her?”

As Rinna sat on the steps and watched every move Harry made, she felt a pang in her heart.  _He should have been with me._  The sense of loss was as keen as the sharp blade of a dagger.  She felt as if her heart was off beat, and it _hurt_.

After the last person had had a chance on the broom, everyone found a place to sit as excited jabber filled the air.  Fred and George hit upon the idea of having a backyard Quidditch match prior to Harry’s birthday party the following week.  This was met with great enthusiasm and received instant approval by the party planner herself, Molly Weasley.  

Fred turned to Rinna and said, “You will come, won’t you?” Rinna looked at Harry, not sure how he felt about her coming.  That connective moment during the flying notwithstanding, she understood as a matter of course that he may not want her in his life after everything he had found out that afternoon.  

“I think I will leave it up to Harry who will be on his guest list for his birthday party and pre-party Quidditch match,” she said lightly.  She met Harry’s eyes.  “If you need to fill a position on a team next week you can owl me.”

Harry blinked and realized she was leaving the quaffle on his side of the pitch.  He felt irritated again.  He wished she would just tell him what she wanted: did she want to be back in his life, or not?  He followed her as she slipped into the house.

Rinna was just putting the shrinking charm on the Silver Dart and placing it back in the trunk when she felt Harry’s presence.  They were alone together for the first time since the confession under the big tree.  She turned to face him.  It went against her nature to let other people make decisions for her, and though she knew she shouldn’t get the last word in, she couldn’t stop herself.

“Look, Harry, I’d like to come to your party next week if you’d have me.  I really don’t want to miss any more of your birthdays.  But I’d understand if you don’t want me…”

“I want you to come,” Harry interrupted.  “You’re my godmother.  Of course I want you here.”

She released a breath that she didn’t realize she had been holding.  “All right, then.  I’ll be here.”

“And the pre-party Quidditch game?” he raised his eyebrow in a challenging manner.  

She grinned.  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything!”

__________________________________________________________________________________

**Author Note:  This is the portion of our show where I request that you scroll down to that little “review” button and leave me a review.  It doesn’t have to be a long review.  Even a few words will satisfy me.  Heck, I’ll be happy if all you leave are a few guttural sounds.  The point of this little ramble being…I’d like to hear from you.  Thanks!**


	6. Disclosures and Intemperance

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 6: Disclosures and Intemperance**

**Disclaimer:  This may come as a shock to you, but I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters.  They do, however, seem to want to play around in my head, hence this story.  Any characters or places you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are products of my fertile and fevered imagination.  The spells are referenced below.**

**Warning:  There is some inappropriate use of alcohol in this chapter, which leads to some mature situations… please do not follow the characters’ example!**

**____________________________________________________________________**

The buzzing of insects and chirping of birds was insidiously being supplanted by a tap-tap-tap at the grimy window of the abandoned work shed.  Groaning with the effort of pulling himself out of the half-awake, half-asleep state he’d been in, Sirius Black rolled over and caught a flash of white wing at the window.  Instantly he was on his feet, working the warped window open.  A snowy white owl flew in and landed on a rickety sawhorse.  She preened proudly before squawking imperiously at Sirius.  She stretched out her leg like a blue-blooded lady extending her hand for a kiss.

Sirius chuckled and removed the letter she proffered.  The smile left his face as he read.  When he finished, he had to sit down as a myriad of questions bombarded him like bludgers.  In the rush of his mad escape from Hogwart’s, he’d had no time to find out what had become of Arinna Dunlevy.  How was he to respond to Harry’s note?  He was completely in the dark.  

Sirius sat for a long time, half-watching Hedwig pounce on a few mice.  _Rinna_.  Just the thought of her brought up so many mixed feelings: anger, desire, betrayal, hurt, longing, bitterness… every memory of her was tinged with these emotions, and therefore they had not been touched by the Dementors during those long years in Azkaban.  Being on the lam for a year hunting Peter had provided a distraction from the thoughts and ponderings about her that he had nursed like a festering sore during his time in prison.  Now they were back in full force, and he needed to winnow out fact from speculation and wishful thinking.

Finally, he got up and rummaged through the few belongings he has acquired recently, looking for a pencil.  He turned over the parchment and wrote:

_Dear Harry,_

_Arinna Dunlevy is your godmother, although why she has not revealed that fact to you, I cannot fathom.  On my discovery last year that you had been placed with your aunt and uncle, I had my doubts about where her loyalties lie, as she was to be your guardian should anything happen to me (per your parents’ wishes).  I wish I could tell you that you can trust her, but I honestly cannot guess as to her motivation for coming back into your life after all these years.  At best, I can say be careful, and if you have any doubts or suspicions, contact Dumbledore or Lupin.  I will be, of course, seeking out additional information about her and I will contact you as soon as I know anything more.  I suspect we will be seeing each other sooner than we expected._

_Take care of yourself,_

_Sirius_

He re-read what he wrote, realizing that his message was not the least bit reassuring, but he did not want Harry to be complacent.  Not when Voldemort was trying to regain power.  

If he was honest with himself, he wanted to believe Rinna’s intentions toward Harry were benevolent, because he wanted to believe that Rinna had not had any part in what happened with Lily and James and Peter.  But his experience with Peter had taught him that not everything is as it seems, and even though you think you know a person well…

He shook his head.  _No more speculation.  Now is the time to act._  He tied the note to Hedwig’s leg with a murmur to her to deliver it to Harry straightaway.  He began throwing his meager possessions into a worn knapsack.  

An image of Titian hair and emerald eyes entered his mind, plush lips parted in a secret smile just for him.  He sat down, hard, put his head in his hands and raked his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture.  _As long as you’re being honest with yourself, Black, you might as well admit that you are haring off to England in the hopes of patching things up with her, if there is even the smallest chance of that happening._   He shook his head again.  _No, I despise her, remember?  Ha! Admit it: you have secretly harbored the dream that your last conversation with her was some huge cosmic joke._   He sighed.  That was true.  He could admit it fully now, since there were no Dementors here to suck away any hope that thought would bring…and since he was apparently having a “be honest with yourself” moment here anyway.

Well, if he was going to embark on some ill-advised trip back to the country where he was the most wanted wizard alive, he should probably make a few plans and travel under the cloak of darkness, seeing as this had worked for him so far.  

He walked over to the hippogriff in the corner.  “Oy, Beaky, I’m going to garner some provisions.  We’ll be leaving at nightfall.”  Buckbeak chirruped in reply and nuzzled Sirius affectionately.  “I’m jumping both-feet-in back into the mess of my own manhunt.  And for what, Beaky?”  Buckbeak cocked his head to the side inquiringly.  “For a woman who… well, I don’t know what she is to me anymore.  I just know that I need answers that only she can give me.”  He chuckled ironically, “That, and the fact that I cannot get her out of my head.”  He clapped Buckbeak on his feathery shoulder, “Ah, hell, Beaky.  James would be laughing his ass off right about now…”

________________________________________________________________________________

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione were sitting in Ron’s room trying to cool off after a fine game of football on the Weasley lawn.  Hermione had brought her ball and taught the game to them.  Harry had a basic understanding of the rules, but the others were completely unfamiliar with the Muggle game.  Ron had had a great deal of difficulty not using his hands until Hermione made him put his hands in his pockets. Ginny had teased him unmercifully about how silly he looked.  

“I thought the best game was the Weasley vs. Non-Weasley,” said Ron, giving his sister a high five.  

“Oh, are you still congratulating yourself on that spectacular block you made with your face?” grinned Hermione.

“Kept you from making a goal, didn’t I?”

“Well I thought the best game was the girls vs. boys,” Hermione said.

“Right,” Ginny agreed, “because we kicked your sorry boy arses!”  She and Hermione jumped up and gave high fives, then pumped their fists in the air, “Oh yeah, oh yeah!” 

“That’s only because I was stuck with Pocket Boy!”  Harry insisted.

“Hey!  That’s ‘Pocket Boy: Footballer Extraordinaire’ to you, mate!”  Ron said in mock indignation.

“Ugh.  Too many syllables,” Ginny commented.  “I’ll just call you ‘P-Boy’ instead.”

Ron scowled in disgust.  “I think not.  If you do...” he started to advance on his sister menacingly, “I will have to hold you down and drool on you!”

“Oh, why don’t you grow up, Ronnie P-Boy?  Still resorting to those old disgusting…aaahhh!  NO!  STOP!”  Ginny shrieked and ran behind Harry.  “Save me, Harry!”

Ron attempted to reach around Harry, saying, “C’mon, mate, help me out here.  Defend my masculine pride!”

“Right,” said Harry, who turned around and seized Ginny by the arms, grinning.  “Sorry, Gin.  I’ve got to help the poor bloke out.  Masculine pride and whatnot.”

“Argh!  If you try anything, then mark my words: the first thing I will do when we get on the train to Hogwarts is throw a Bat Bogey Hex on you two that will knock you into next week!”  Ginny threatened.

Harry let go of her arms as if they were hot pokers.  He turned back to Ron.  “Sorry, mate.  Swallow your masculine pride.  I don’t ever want to be on the receiving end of one of Ginny’s hexes!”

“No, you bloody well don’t!” Ron exclaimed from experience.

“Hmph!” Ginny sniffed and flounced over to sit on Harry’s bed next to Hermione, who was giggling.  “That will teach you to manhandle me!”

“Little sisters are such pains in the—“

“Ron!” admonished Hermione.

Ginny huffed, “Brothers!  You are SO lucky you don’t have any, Hermione.”  She flopped back on the bed and hit her head on something hard.  “OW!”  She reached under the covers and pulled out a green leather album.  “What’s this?”

Harry looked up.  “Oh, that’s Rinna’s album.  She left it the other day for me to look at.”

“Can I look at it?” asked Ginny.

Harry shrugged.  “Sure.”  He and Ron settled on Ron’s bed for a game of Exploding Snap.

Hermione moved closer to Ginny and took one side of the album, helping hold it.  They turned pages together and admired the artwork and read the journaling, commented on the fashions of the day, and admired the handsome Marauders.

“Professor Lupin was such a hottie!” Ginny commented.

“I did NOT hear that!” groaned Ron.

Hermione frowned, flipped through a few pages, and said, “Harry, there are no pictures of Sirius in here.  Isn’t that odd?”

“Yeah,” Ginny noted.  “And look at this: there are blank spots on these pages, and this page is completely empty.  That’s weird.”

“Why is that weird?” Ron wanted to know.

“Because the layout doesn’t look right.  It’s not balanced.  There should be a picture here, and right here…look, the journaling stops mid sentence.  Like someone erased it.”

“You’re right!” agreed Hermione.  “Look at this compared to the earlier pages; it’s not her style at all to leave big gaps…she uses all of the page for pictures, writing and artwork or doodads.” 

Harry shrugged.  “My theory is she took out all the pictures of Sirius when she thought he was a murderer.”

Hermione was running her fingers over one of the open spaces on the page in front of her.  “Hang on.  It feels like something is here.  Feel it, Ginny.”  She took Ginny’s fingers and ran them on the page to show her.  Ginny nodded in agreement.  “I think the photos are still here, just concealed in some way.”

Ginny frowned.  “Too bad we aren’t allowed to do any revealing charms…”

As luck would have it, Bill passed by the open door on his way up the stairs to his room.

“Oy, Bill!” Ginny called.  

He came back and poked his head in the door.  “Yes, my darling sister?”

She flashed her sweetest smile at him, the one that said _I have my oldest brother wrapped around my pinkie finger and he has no idea_ , and said offhandedly, “We think there is a concealment charm on this.  What spell would you use to break it?”

Bill walked over to the girls, pulling out his wand.  “Well the simplest one is _resolvo_ _veneficus_ ,” and he tapped the album.  Nothing happened.  “All right.  We’ll try this: _aspectus invisus_!”

For a second, nothing happened.  Then there was a slight shimmer, like a mirage on a hot day, and slowly the missing pictures appeared.

“There.  Nothing to it!” said Bill with satisfaction.  He turned and strolled out.

“Thanks, Bill!  You’re the best!” Ginny called after him.  She looked around the room.  Everyone was staring at her with mouths open.  “Rather handy, having a curse-breaker in the family, hmm?” she asked nonchalantly.

“I can not believe how easily you manipulated Bill into doing that!  It’s almost creepy.” Harry said admiringly.

Ginny held her curled fingers in front of her face, blew on them, then extended her hand palm out and admired her fingernails.  “It’s a gift,” she said airily.  

Hermione was goggling at the page that had formerly been completely empty.  “Oh my goodness.  Harry…come here!  You have got to see this!”

Harry strode over to her and took the album.  The others crowded around him, looking over his shoulder.

One of the photos showed Sirius and Rinna hugging and falling off the couch, the next showed them getting back on the couch laughing hysterically. Several had them smiling and kissing. A slightly larger one was of the two of them dancing, Rinna’s head on Sirius’ chest, his chin resting on the top of her head.  He then took her in his arms and dipped her dramatically, pulling her back up to him and kissing her soundly. 

The largest picture of all showed a grinning Sirius taking Rinna’s left hand and moving it toward the camera.  A beautiful ring made of an oval ruby with diamonds on either side was on her ring finger.  Under that picture, written in Rinna’s handwriting and surrounded by little drawn hearts, was the word: ENGAGED!

“Bloody hell,” breathed Ron.

Harry sat down abruptly.  He felt light-headed.

“Do you suppose they were married when, you know, when Sirius went to Azkaban?” Ginny asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” said Harry dully. 

Hermione was suddenly very angry, for Harry’s sake.  “Well this is just typical of her, isn’t it?”  The others looked at her quizzically.  “Leaving you to discover yet another rather immense and important fact about her instead of coming right out and telling you.”

“Hermione…” Harry perked up…

But Hermione was not finished.  “I mean really, Harry, she has not been straightforward with you, not once!  Why is she so secretive?  Getting information from her is like pulling teeth!”

Ron smiled a little: trust Hermione, daughter of dentists, to use such a metaphor.

Hermione sat down next to Harry, huffing out her breath.  “It’s frustrating as hell!”

Harry looked at her askance, not used to hearing Hermione swear.  She was mad as a hornet and so very protective of him; it was sweet and endearing.  He reached over and gave her a side hug.  “What do you want me to do, Mione?  Hold her down and demand answers to questions I don’t know exist?”  _Actually, that sounds like a good idea…_

“What I’d really like to do,” she growled, “is…”

Harry interrupted her with another hug.  “You’re just mad because you hate not knowing everything.”

She looked into his face seriously.  “No, I’m mad because it is so unfair to you. It’s like she’s messing about with you.”

Harry sighed.  _Just when I felt like I wasn’t so mad at Rinna anymore…this comes along._

___________________________________________________________________________________  

Rinna was catching up on housework, absentmindedly dusting the furniture while her mind replayed her conversation with Harry and his friends yet again.  She had been wrong in thinking it would be easier to hear about Sirius’ innocence and Peter’s subterfuge the second time; yet she couldn’t stop thinking about it now.  And the prophecy by the Divination professor Harry told her about; she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was true.  His words had resonated in her soul as she felt the thrum of truth in them.  She may have spent the last three years largely ignoring her magical birthright, but she could not escape her magical instincts.  She felt it in her gut:  Peter, who had been the traitor among them, was now returning to his master.  Of this she had no doubt.

Her musings were interrupted when her foot struck a small hard object under the coffee table.  Curious, she bent to pick it up.  It was the ornamental glass top to the fire whiskey decanter she and Remus had emptied that day in June when he’d come to tell her about Sirius.  _Well, we hadn’t polished it off completely.  There had been about a finger-width of liquor still left in the bottom that next day…_ She sat on the couch, housework forgotten, absently twirling the glass top in her hand as she recalled that day yet again.

________________________________________________________________________________

For a long time, Remus and Rinna sat on the couch in silence, completely still except for the occasional movement of bringing glass to lips and swallowing.  When Rinna’s glass was empty, he leaned forward to refill it.  She brought it to her mouth, paused as if reconsidering, then tipped her head back and knocked it down in one fell swoop.  She set the glass on the coffee table and indicated she needed a refill.  Remus looked at her and frowned.  She impatiently took the bottle from him and poured it herself.  To his relief, she returned to merely sipping at the glass.  She stared broodingly at the bottle on the table, refusing to meet his eyes for a very long time.  Remus finished his drink, and started another.

Eventually she shifted her position on the couch and looked at Remus, her green eyes full of sadness.  “Oh, Remus…” she breathed, full of regret, “how could I have believed that Sirius had killed Peter and all those people?  It seems so obvious now.”

“We were all manipulated, Rinna,” he answered, “Each of us was given enough reason to doubt the others…”

“I’m so angry with myself, Remy!” she interrupted.  

“I know.  I feel the same way: angry and upset that I believed it at all.”

She was quiet for a few moments.  “All this time,” she said softly, “I thought I was to blame…that I was the one who pushed him too far, pushed him over the edge, pushed him to Voldemort.” She put her head in her hands, “because I had…because I broke his heart.”

This was not new information to Remus.  “Hey, luv, hey…” he reached his hand out to touch her shoulder.  “Now you know it’s not true.  Doesn’t it help to know that?”

She gave a mirthless snort.  “It was bad enough, Remy, when I thought breaking off the engagement resulted in him cracking and turning coat.  But now I feel even more terrible, knowing that he spent all those years in Azkaban, completely innocent and thinking that I didn’t love him, thinking about what I’d said to him…” She lapsed into silence again.

Remus downed the remaining contents of his glass ( _was this the second or third?)_ and poured more.  He swirled the whiskey around, contemplating if he dared take the path of past deeds and recriminations any further.  On the one hand, he felt it would be beneficial for her to talk about things and process her feelings for a change.  On the other hand, it would require him to open some old wounds, too.

Rinna’s actions had affected Remus as well, putting him in an untenable position with Sirius those many years ago.  It had surprised him that she had acted the way she did, for she had never in all the years he had known her been cruel or selfish before.  And then, **that night** happened and everything went wrong.  He had never demanded an explanation for what she did, never talked to her about it, out of deference to her then fragile mental state, and later…well, later he had buried it deep enough that it didn’t bear dragging out after all those years.  

But now, the discovery of Peter’s betrayal and Sirius’ innocence was fresh in his mind, and he was angry with himself, and Rinna was playing her guilt and blame game again, and the whiskey was whispering to him to let down the walls a bit…He took a deep breath and tossed back the latest glass of liquor.  

“I talked to him a few days after…after you broke it off.  He was devastated,” he told her. Her breath hitched in a gasping sob, but he didn’t stop.  Anger and resentment started to surface from where ever he had kept it buried for so long, fed by the slight inebriation he felt.  “He thought that you and I were having an affair.”

“Oh, god, Remus…oh no…”  Rinna’s gut wrenched.  She had wounded her lover even more than she had ever realized.  And wounded Remus, who, having never been anything but a proper gentleman around Rinna, had to defend himself to his best friend… 

“Oh, don’t worry;” he said with a bitter note to his voice, “I was finally able to convince him that we weren’t.  Though I think he would have felt better if it had been true.  He couldn’t think of any reason for you to end the relationship otherwise.”  He looked at her sullenly.  “Neither could I.”  She remained still, head in her hands, not answering.  He did _not_ tell her that Sirius _did_ think of one other reason why Rinna would call it off: that Rinna had been seduced by the enemy.

“Why _did_ you do it, Rinna?” he whispered harshly.  

Rinna felt as if her heart had been spitted on the stiletto blade of his words.  Why had she done it, the singularly biggest mistake of her life?  She would never be able to explain adequately.  But she had to try; she owed Remus an explanation, especially after unwittingly getting him involved.  And, she realized, if she was ever in the position to do so, she owed Sirius one as well.

“I had managed to infiltrate far enough into my assigned targets in Voldemort’s service,” she began, “to be privy to information indicating that the Dark Lord had his eye on Sirius, to recruit him.  Apparently it was at Bellatrix’ behest.” She was sweating with the effort, never getting louder than a whisper.  

Remus looked at her sharply and realized that if she was revealing information about covert activities she had been involved in, then she must be fighting against a spell of compulsion.  All operatives of the Order had undergone such compulsion spells voluntarily, in order to safeguard the strategies and secret plans of the Order.  He opened his mouth to tell her to stop, but she raised her hand to him.  “S’okay.  Let me finish,” she rasped.

The next part was said with less effort because she was no longer revealing Order secrets, but it somehow seemed far more difficult to get out. “I don’t know…I just lost my sense of judgment, I suppose.  I always did when he was concerned.  I thought that I would be used as a means to bring him in, so if I made him hate me…he’d have no reason to come after me if I was used as bait…” 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? Tell Dumbledore?  Why didn’t you tell Sirius what you knew?”  Remus asked in despair, understanding her panic, but also seeing the fatal flaw in her thinking that led to so much heartache.  

“I don’t know!  I DON’T KNOW!” she screamed as she shot up from the couch.  She pulled at her hair and paced the living room.  “Do you think that I don’t ask myself those very questions every day, Remus?  Do you think that I don’t regret my actions?”  Her voice raised in pitch in her anxiety.  “I play in my head each thing I should have done differently, I come up with every ‘what if’ scenario.  I made the worst decision of my life and I have regretted it every single second of every single day of the last thirteen years!  I look back and see how stupid and naïve I was.  Damn it, Remus, I was so young and so stupid…”  

She reached for the whiskey decanter, but Remus pulled it away, concerned.  “Pour me another effing glass, Remus,” she growled dangerously.  He capitulated, and poured.  And watched her closely: she swayed, and took a large gulp from the glass.

She sat down next to him on the couch.  “I had second thoughts, believe me.  I had made up my mind to go to Sirius and tell him everything and beg his forgiveness when…” she faltered.

He finished her sentence in a somber voice: “When you were captured.”

“Yeah…” she murmured.  “I never had the chance.”

Remus reached over and pulled her to him in a side hug.  She laid her head on his shoulder. “Nothing has been right since that day, you know?” her voice was barely audible.  

They downed their drinks and Remus poured more.  He’d long ago lost track of how many he’d had.  He was sure she’d had more.  _Now’s your chance, tell her how hurt you are.  Tell her she’s not the only one struggling with this…_ the fire whiskey seemed to whisper in his head.

He cleared his throat.  “Every close friend I had was taken away from me in a matter of days.  Every one but you.  And I feared I would lose you, too.  Those days at St. Mungo’s…I was so afraid of never getting you back.”  She reached for his empty hand, and squeezed it.  “And once you were better, I never told you how angry I was at what you did to Sirius.  I was afraid that I’d…”

“Push me back over the edge?”  She finished for him.

“Yes… And then, you left me, and I was even angrier with you, Rinna.  I felt…I don’t know…like an orphan, abandoned and betrayed.”

Rinna’s heart stopped momentarily.  She thought of the little boy, truly orphaned, whom she left as well.  _The two people who remained, who meant more to me than anything, Remus and Harry…I left them…_

“It wasn’t you…I didn’t leave _you_ , Remus.  I told you why I had to go.”

His voice was laced with sorrow.  “My head understood your reasons for leaving, but my heart…my heart couldn’t comprehend it.”

She shifted her position on the couch, turning to him and gently placing her hand on the side of his face.  “Oh Remy, why did you not tell me this when I returned to England?”

His eyelids slid closed; he felt blinded by the intensity of emotion in her intoxicatingly green eyes.  “I was just glad to have you back, Rinna.  You were back, you were hurting, and I didn’t want to rock the boat.  I just wanted everything to be all right between us.”

He heard her breathe in sharply, and opened his eyes.  He was startled to see her eyes welling with tears.

“How could things be all right between us when I have been such a miserably selfish bitch to you?” she cried.  “I am so sorry; I didn’t realize how much I had hurt you.  That I hurt you when I hurt Sirius, when I left, and even now.  I take your love and friendship for granted, don’t I?  How can you even bear to be around me, Remus?”  The words tumbled without hindrance from her mouth, her head swam with the effects of the alcohol, and her ever-present facade was breaking apart.

He took her hand and tried to shush her, but she was not consolable.  “You and Sirius…you were the two men I loved most in my life, and look what I did to each of you…”  The tears that had been threatening to spill finally sprang forth and rolled down her cheeks, and she sat, unable to move, gasping and sobbing.  Her body shook, and she couldn’t stop crying. 

Fueled by intoxication and overwhelmed by all she had learned that day, she broke down as Remus put his arms around her and pulled her to him, resting her head on his chest and running soothing hands up and down her back.  He held her close to him and stroked her hair and her back and let her cry.  _Maybe this will help her…please let this help her._

After a very long time, Rinna pulled away from his chest and looked at the large wet stain on his shirt.  “I’m suh…sorry…I slob…slobbered all over…you,” she got out between shuddering breaths.

“S’okay,” he said softly, and he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.  He brushed his fingers along her forehead, pushing aside her hair that stuck there.  She sighed, and leaned back against the couch, eyes closed.

He took her hand, remembering the trick she would do in school of pushing on pressure points in the hand to calm and soothe, and did his best to caress the points he could recall.  “D’you feel any better?” His voice was deep with concern.

Her answer was faint and he had to lean in to hear, “Nothing makes me feel any better.  I’ve done things for which I don’t think I will ever be forgiven.  I can’t even forgive myself…”  

“Rinna,” his voice was just above a whisper.  She opened her eyes and looked into his.  “I forgive you, for all that is mine to forgive.  Please do not torment yourself anymore; I can’t bear it.”

Rinna’s mind reeled, stoked by mixed emotions and fire whiskey and a funny heaviness in her chest.  “I don’t know how to stop the guilt and the pain anymore.  It’s all spinning, out of my control.  Help me, Remus,” she whispered.

Remus watched as several tears spilled down her cheeks and moved, excruciatingly slowly, past the corner of her mouth.  His eyes traced their path as the tears slid over her jaw and trickled down her neck, finally coming to rest in the hollow just above the breast bone.  They shimmered there fuzzily as her chest rose and fell in little quivering movements.  Mesmerized, he watched the pool of tears sparkle like a jewel at her throat.  Without thinking, he leaned forward, and placed a kiss there.  

He felt her sharp intake of breath when his lips touched her neck, and she squeezed his hand that was holding hers.  He pulled away, tasting the salt of her tears on his lips.  She was looking at him, her green eyes wide.  Part of his mind screamed at him to stop before he crossed a line, but the alcohol singing in his veins made him bold.  He cupped her face in his hand, tenderly wiping one last tear with his thumb.  Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the caress.

He pulled her to him into an embrace, tucking her head under his chin and stroking her back.  Her hair smelled like herbs, or chamomile? He wasn’t sure, so he inhaled her scent again.  She smelled wonderful, and his stomach flip-flopped ever so slightly.  He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.  She tilted her chin to look up at him, eyelids heavy over emerald orbs, full pink lips parted as she took a deep breath, a slight flush high in her cheeks.  

His resolve broke.  Ignoring the warning screaming faintly in the back of his head, he bent forward and captured her lips with his.  She felt warm, and tasted of salt and whiskey.  His heart pounded, and his breath hitched as she fisted her hand in his hair, pulling him to her and deepening the kiss. Remus felt all peripheral awareness slip away until his only thought was of her hot, demanding mouth and the exquisite sounds she was making deep in her throat.  Her lips parted and the tip of her tongue traced his lower lip.  Remus groaned and captured her upper lip with both of his before letting go and tracing kisses along her jaw to the base of her earlobe.

She leaned her head to the side, giving him access as he hungrily kissed her neck to the collar bone.  Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, as if she was sluggishly wading through all the fire whiskey she had consumed.  A hint of a thought nipped at her suggesting that she should not be here on her couch with Remus so delightfully pressed up against her.  She pushed away the thought; she just wanted to float in the alcohol-induced euphoria that clouded memories and felt so good.  She hadn’t been kissed so deliciously in so long, and Remus felt warm and smelled of soap and musk and…

Rinna took his face in her hands and dragged his mouth back to hers, kissing him urgently and thoroughly.  Then she fluttered kisses on his cheeks and neck, finding a sensitive spot behind his ear.  He groaned again as she lapped and nipped at the area with voracity, making half-whimpering, half-moaning sounds in his ear.  

Remus took her with him as he stretched out on the couch, and he proceeded to return her kisses on her throat, collar bone, and down the opening of her blouse.  He felt her hands untucking his shirt and slipping under the hem to stroke caressingly up to his nipples.  Her hands seemed to cast spells that made his body buzz.  He untangled his hand from her hair and unfastened the top button of her blouse, then lavished kisses on the soft skin between her breasts.  He felt her tremble underneath him.  He felt his body respond.

Rinna squirmed under him in a most enticing manner and he realized she was trying to roll him onto his back, which may have worked if not for the narrowness of the couch.  She almost pushed him off, but he saved himself at the last minute by pressing the length of his body fully against her.  His face landed conveniently right back in her décolleté, and not being a man to waste a good opportunity, he laved the spot with his tongue.

“Remy,” she murmured huskily.

“Mmmm?”

“Remy, thish couch is too schm…too small for us.”

“Mmm hmmm,” he replied.

“Get up, silly.”

“Where’m I going?”

“Someplace better,” she slurred.

Miraculously, they managed to get to their feet, and Rinna grabbed his shirt front to keep from toppling over.  He steadied her with his arms, and she tugged him down the hall.  Their progress was slow, since they had to stop every step or so to lean against something.  Rinna’s knees seemed to have turned to jelly, and Remus was not much better off.  They clung to each other and inched their way gradually toward her room.  Rinna could not understand how her cozy house had gotten so large.

She giggled.  

“Wha’s so funny?” Remus wanted to know.

“I feel squiffy.”

Remus snorted.  “Tha’s an undersh…an undershtatement if I’ve ever heard one!”

“Oh, look…we’re here!” she said in surprise.

Remus eyes widened as he realized where they were, but she dragged him forward before he could protest.  Not that he really wanted to protest.  Next thing he knew he had tumbled with her into the bed.  She used his momentum to roll him onto his back and she propped on one elbow above him.  He knew he was leering at her drunkenly.  She looked at him and smiled, her eyes slightly glassy.  “Thish is better, dontcha think?” she asked thickly.  He nodded, and regretted it as the room began to spin.

Rinna fumbled up to her hands and knees, which took a few attempts, and then crawled on top of him to straddle his thighs.  She made the mistake of sitting up abruptly.  “Ooooh…” she grabbed her head and swayed.  “Too fast…”

She slumped back down and put her head on Remus’ chest, and took some deep breaths.  “I need to lie down.”  He put his arms around her and rolled slightly to the side so she settled on her hip, but her one leg was still draped over his thighs.  Her head was in the hollow of his shoulder, and she sighed.  

A minute passed.  Then two.  Remus’ heartbeat began to slow slightly.  He ran his hand down Rinna’s back.  “Rinna?  Rin?”  She stirred against him and murmured something unintelligible.  He chuckled.  He would try to rouse her in a minute, but first he just wanted to lay here and enjoy the feel of her warm body against him, and close his eyes for just a little while, until the spinning stopped…

\----- -----

The sun had already set when Remus opened his eyes again; he was in an unfamiliar bed feeling rather inebriated and he couldn’t feel his arm.  His usually quick mind took a few extra heartbeats before he remembered where he was and who he was with _.  I really should move to the couch, it would be the proper thing to do…_ but he realized that he no longer wanted to do the proper thing, not with Rinna lying here in bed with him in his embrace.  Besides, he knew there was no way he could make that long trek back to the living room without falling.  He squirmed, trying to get his numb arm out from under her, and she stirred against him.

“Blackie?” she breathed.

Remus caught his breath.  In a moment of clarity that cut through the alcohol haze Remus realized that he still was living in Sirius’ shadow in all things where this woman was concerned.  _That’s the way it was back then, and nothing has changed…yet._

“No, luv, it’s Remus.”

“Oh, Remy,” her words were still slurred.  “I had the oddest dream ‘bout Sirius…I dreamt he was innocent…”

“I know, Rinna.  Now go back to sleep.”

Despite the boldness imparted to him by the fire whiskey, he was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of her in her state of inebriety.  Sighing in frustration, he moved his arm from under her and resettled her against him, holding her close and wishing that just this once, he might’ve been the man at the forefront of her conscious and subconscious thoughts.

\----- -----

Early morning light came softly through the window.  Rinna opened her eyes when she became cognizant that she was spooned with her back flush against a masculine form and an arm around her waist.  _Remus_ her mind identified for her.  _Well, here’s a fine situation_.  She realized that she had never thought of someday finding herself in such a position, because she had been struggling to keep her heart from feeling anything, really, these last few years… and it had never occurred to her to think their relationship could be more than platonic.  And certainly not as the result of imbibing in entirely too much alcohol. 

Slowly and carefully, she turned over, feeling his hand slip across her belly as she did so.  He stirred and tightened his arm around her possessively, but didn’t wake; and damn, but she liked the way it felt to have his arm around her.  Her face was close to his now, and she looked at him as he slept, eyes wandering over his familiar features:  sandy hair shot through ever so slightly with hints of gray here and there, slightly darker brows and eyelashes hiding hazel eyes (she loved his eyes), handsome face that was marked by a few scars and the recently acquired scratches (the scars did not mar his features…only served to make him look a bit rakish). 

A smile played at her lips as she remembered the first time Remus had spoken to her, truly spoken to her in a conversation, at the beginning of her fourth year at Hogwarts… _it was in the library, of course.  He saw me working on my Transfiguration essay and sat down across from me. He smiled at me, and, oh sweet Merlin, that smile…I don’t think I got any more work done that evening…_ They had bandied about the essay topic for a bit, not even stopping as Lily joined them, until the Marauders had come along and commandeered him, no doubt for the perpetration of some mischief.  She was thirteen years old, and she was smitten…

And now, a little more than twenty years later, he looked perfect, lying here in her bed with his arm draped around her.  Her eyes widened in realization of what she was thinking.  _Am I falling for Remus?  Am I still drunk?  What is going on?_   She knew she had better get her feelings for this man sorted out before…

Remus’ hand tightened on her hip where it rested, then his eyes opened and looked right into hers.  She watched as they widened in surprise, then darkened in color at the memory of the night before.  He snatched his hand away from her body as if he’d been burned.  To her chagrin, she blushed like the thirteen year old she’d just recalled.  The situation was about as awkward as being caught necking in a broom closet by your Transfiguration professor.  _What the hell?  Why is my mind bringing up Sirius at a time like this?_ It was time for some damage control.

“Uhm…Good morning,” she said.  _Oh that is just brilliant, girl!_

He rolled onto his back and groaned, “There is nothing good about the pounding in my head.”

Rinna giggled.  _Giggling?  My stars, what has gotten into me?  Stop it this instant, Rinna!_   “S’matter, old man, can’t hold your liquor?”

He turned back again to look at her, scowling.  “You mean to tell me that you are _not_ feeling any effects from the fire whiskey?”

“You mean the dull throb in my head, the dry mouth and the feeling that I’ll be violently ill if I stand upright?  Nope, hadn’t noticed,” she smirked wickedly.

“You are a vile wench!  Remind me to never get drunk with you again.”

“Why?  Because we become too brutally honest with each other, or because we end up in bed together?” 

Remus winced.  “Look, about that…”

“Don’t you dare apologize, Remus Lupin.  We are both adults.  There is nothing wrong with what we did…or didn’t do, as the case may be.”  

He looked at her seriously, choosing his words carefully.  “I won’t deny that I am rather attracted to you, Rinna.  It’s just that…I don’t want to do anything that would jeopardize our friendship.”

She flopped back onto her back and sighed.  “And you think that the two of us being more than friends would.”

“I don’t know.”  Part of him was screaming to just _tell her_ he wanted her as so much more than a friend, but the logical, practical part of him remembered her calling for Sirius while she lay in his arms.  If Sirius was here now, he had no doubt which of the two she would choose.  _Do I really want to get involved in a relationship when her heart belongs to someone else?_   The reckless side of him insisted _YES!_

She spoke quietly, “Thinking of disturbing the status quo scares me a little, too.”

He propped up on his elbow to get a better look at her.  “Let’s just see what happens.  Does that sound all right?”

She smiled at him.  She knew she loved him dearly.  Maybe they _should_ just see what develops.  “Absolutely.” She rolled to the other side, and carefully sat up.  

“What are you doing?” Remus wondered.

“I’m going to attempt to crawl to the loo,” she informed him, carefully cradling her head in her hands.  She gamely heaved herself to her feet, and regretted it immediately.  “On second thought, I think I’ll just lie down.”

“Looks like we are stuck here for a while.”

She snorted.  “Well, at least the company is nice.  Certainly better than the last time I got completely pissed.”

He didn’t rise to the bait.  “I’m not even going to ask.”

It was the worst hangover either of them had had in a very long time.

________________________________________________________________________________

Rinna looked into the glass top, watching as the light caught in the glass and made tiny rainbows.  It occurred to her that she had spent a large portion of her life focusing on a period of less than two weeks.  Granted, she had lost her fiancé, her best friend and her husband, her sanity and her godson.  Some of that she could change, _like with Harry_ , some of that she couldn’t, _I miss you so much, Lily_ , and some of that…well, time would tell. 

Under girding all the pain, all the guilt, all the sorrow was anger: deep, righteous, soul-rendering anger.  One person was responsible for this, the one person whose power she had sworn to contest till she no longer had breath in her body: Voldemort.  She thought of the people she cared about…Remus, Harry, Dorrie, the Weasleys, Dumbledore, Sirius…none of them were safe if Voldemort returned to power.  

Her hands gripped the glass stopper tightly.  She had forsaken her oath long enough; now was the time to reclaim her power and the purpose she had set for herself when she left England.  She _would_ somehow be instrumental in bringing the Dark Lord down...  She took the glass top, and hurled it into the fireplace, listening in satisfaction as it splintered into tiny pieces.  Her reticence shattered with it.  She knew what she had to do now. 

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**A/N:  Wondering what Bill’s spells mean in English?  Well, _resolvo veneficus_ = dispel magic, _aspectus invisus_ = see unseen.  Latin courtesy of GameWyrd.  **

**Well, it’s the longest chapter yet.  I’d like to know what you thought…so you know what to do.  Mosey on down to the “review” button and leave me a review.  I will be so very happy if you do!**


	7. The Best Laid Plans...

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 7: The Best Laid Plans…**

**Disclaimer:  This may come as a shock to you, but I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters.  They do, however, seem to want to play around in my head, hence this story.  Any characters or places or book titles you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are products of my fertile and fevered imagination.**

**_____________________________________________________________________**

Remus Lupin was strolling the last few blocks to Rinna’s house deep in thought.  He hadn’t seen her since the last planning meeting before removing Harry from his Muggle family, and he hadn’t heard from her since, either.  Today he had a different reason for seeing her, for which he was glad because he’d realized he was gong to miss those tactical meetings.  He had enjoyed having an excuse to see her every week.  Not that he needed an excuse; she was his oldest friend, after all.  

He was concerned for her.  She was still distancing herself from the wizarding world, although she had conceded to allow her fireplace to be added to the floo network.  That was a start.  And she’d brewed them a hangover-relief potion last month, once she could finally stand up.  But those instances notwithstanding, she was still keeping herself aloof.

He knew that she had come back to England a bit, well, spooked.  As if she’d seen and experienced things she just wanted to forget.  She had insisted on removing herself from the wizarding world, and fortunately, Albus Dumbledore had hit on a brilliant plan for her to be able to enter the Muggle world, yet maintain her wizarding ties.  Despite that, he reflected, she had not been able to escape her demons.

Remus had hoped that meeting Harry would have pulled her out of her funk, even just a little bit.  He had been the one who suggested enlisting her help to Dumbledore, who also had hopes of pulling her out of her shell.  The two men became co-conspirators in their attempt to shake her from her reticence.  

Her door swung open and she practically pounced on him as she eagerly pulled him inside.  “I’m glad you are your usual prompt self, Remy!  I’ve made a few changes to our plans, and we need to get going right away!”

“If you kept the hours of a normal person, and not some nocturnal creature, then we could have started much earlier, you know,” he replied, amused.

She pulled a face at him, and then swept into the living room, carefully avoiding knocking over the parchments that were in stacks on her coffee table and couch.  Remus surveyed the room in wonder: there were piles of papers, old leather bound books, an old ratty-looking trunk, _is that her broom from school?_ , and many cauldrons of various sizes (and very well made) all marring the usual neatness of the room.  He thumbed the nearest book; it was _Who’s Who in the Wizarding World_.  The one underneath it was _Ancient Magical Family Trees: the Wizard’s Complete Guide to Pureblood Genealogy, annotated._ The other books seemed to be various texts, but on closer inspection of the titles, he knew they weren’t from any classes she had taken at Hogwarts.

“What in Merlin’s name…”

She interrupted him, “Could you grab those three medium-sized cauldrons and bring them to the kitchen for me, there’s a good lad.”  She raised her eyebrow at him as she carried her largest cauldron with two hands and made for the kitchen.  

He grinned at her suggestive look.  He had to admit to himself that his infatuation for the red-head had not diminished at all.  Frustratingly, they had not been able to explore any possibilities of progressing their relationship further; every time they had seen each other there had been others present. He was rather looking forward to having her all to himself for the rest of the day.  He moved across the room to comply with her request.

His momentum was arrested by a very official looking parchment on the coffee table.  It was brand new, freshly inked, and read: _Curriculum Vitae for Arinna Dunlevy_. He paused to glance at it in curiosity, carefully picking it up and reading.  She had written him at least several times a year for those ten years she had spent studying abroad, and had told him some of the classes she had been taking, some of the Magical Arts she had chosen to pursue…but a quick glance showed him she had not been forthright in all that she had undertaken.  _Left out some of the more interesting subjects, didn’t you, Rinna dear?_ Her academic record made his credentials to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts look rather puny, indeed.  And he was no lightweight in the Dark Arts.  

Her voice calling him from the kitchen interrupted his disturbing reverie.  “Sorry!  Hang on, I’m coming,” he said quickly as he grabbed the cauldrons by the handles and double-timed it to the kitchen.  

“I thought I said we were in a hurry?” she said acerbically as he set the cauldrons on the table with a clang.  

“I was distracted by the mess out there,” he smirked.  “What are you up to, anyway?”

“I am taking a page out of the Remus Lupin book of employment.  And no, that doesn’t mean I’m going to get all hairy once a month and get myself sacked!” she teased playfully.

“I was not sacked.  I resigned,” he said with dignity.  “And what in the hell are you talking about?”

She laughed at his puzzled expression.  “I…am going to be an educator!”

“What?”

“An educator.  A teacher, a professor, a tutor…” she huffed with some impatience.

“Yes, I know what an educator is, silly.  But just where are you planning on embarking on this new career?”  His eyes widened as he made the connection between what she was saying and what he’d seen in the living room.  “You are not considering what I think you are considering…”

Now it was her turn to look puzzled.  “What do you mean?  How could you know what I’m considering?  I only just told you…”

He stepped up to her and took her by the shoulders.  “I think you are looking to hire yourself out as a private tutor in the Dark Arts to a Dark Wizarding family.”

Her mouth fell open in shock.  She blinked stupidly several times.  Remus almost smiled at how comical her expression was.  She closed her mouth with a snap and said, “I know I am a top notch Occluomens. There is no way you could have pulled that from my head. How in all the bloody moons of Jupiter did you…”

“I saw your curriculum vitae out there.”  He let go of her, rubbing her shoulders where he had been gripping rather tightly.  “I must say, with your credentials, you are the dream tutor that all the top Dark families are looking for…the Malfoys, the Notts, the Goyles would all be giving their eyeteeth to have you…”

“None of them have primary school-aged children anymore.” she smirked, feeling a bit disturbed that she was secretly pleased at his praise.

He stopped to consider her. “Well, you have certainly been doing your homework,” he said.  “But seriously, Rinna, don’t you think it is just a bit counter-productive to our plan of routing Voldemort if you are out there teaching little future Death Eaters the Dark Arts?”

“No, no, that’s not it.  I would be on the inside again, able to get information on what Voldemort is planning…” The look on his face stopped her.

“Are you drunk?”  He asked bluntly.

Now she was mad, and insulted.  “What?”

“I asked, are you drunk? Because that’s the only explanation I can think of for this insane plan of yours.  In case you don’t recall what happened to you the last time you were ‘on the inside’ let me just remind you that you ended up in the hands of Voldemort himself…”

“I know…”

“And you were abused, and you lost your m…”

“I KNOW!”  She glared viciously at him.

He absorbed her glare impassively.  “I will be damned,” he said clearly and deliberately, “if I ever let you get involved with Death Eaters or near that crazy bastard Voldemort again.”

He held her gaze, and she saw the determination in his eyes.  She would not be able to persuade him of the validity of her plan, she could see that.  She sighed and slumped into a chair at her table, leaning forward and smacking her forehead onto her arms crossed on the tabletop.  

He sat next to her, pushing the cauldrons out of his way, and bravely reaching over to stroke her hair.  “What has gotten you into this frenzy all of a sudden, anyway?  I thought you were keeping a low profile.”

She liked the way his hands felt in her hair, so she didn’t lift her head to speak.  “Something that Harry told me.  I’m convinced that we will see the Dark Lord quite hale and hearty in the near future, Remus.”

“What did Harry tell you?” he wondered.

She reluctantly lifted her self up and proceeded to tell him about the prophecy made by Professor Trelawney.  

Remus thought for several moments about what Rinna had told him.  He took a deep breath in through his nose.  “I’m afraid I’m rather of the same mind as Hermione about Sybil Trelawney,” he said.  “I wouldn’t put much stock in what…”

She cut him off.  “Where else will Peter go?  He’s always gravitated to someone big enough and powerful enough to protect him.  Besides, I just know it is true.”  She gave a little shudder.

He looked at her sharply.  “Having a moment of precognition, are we?”

“Yes,” she whispered.  “You know I’ve been right about Voldemort in the past…”

He felt goosebumps prickle his skin.  “All right.  I’ll agree that this changes things.  But I would feel much better if you talk with Albus before you send out any letters of intention to any wizarding families.”  He took her chin in his hand and turned her to look at him.  He locked her eyes with his.  “Will you agree to that?”

She considered a moment before nodding her head in acquiescence. Remus breathed an inward sigh of relief.  He stood up from the table and looked at the cauldrons.  “So, have you decided that brewing potions in your saucepans is an inferior art form?” he teased her, again remembering the potion she had whipped up to relive the agony left by the fire whiskey they’d consumed.  

His words brought her back to the present task.  She quickly stood up, snapping her fingers.  “We have got to get to Diagon Alley!  We have an appointment!  And yes, I want to make sure this next potion I brew is absolutely perfect.  So I did a little unpacking.”

Remus grabbed her hand.  “Thank you for taking this on for me,” he told her quietly.

“The Wolfsbane potion?  Of course I would take it on.  I need to watch out for you, you know.  If I’d known you were going to use an old potion that was supposed to be used up in June, I’d have pulled out the cauldrons sooner,” she chided him.  She had been upset when he owled her to tell her that his last transformation had not gone well because the efficacy of the potion Snape had brewed him had worn off a bit in storage, and would she consider brewing him a new batch?

She lifted her hand to his face and patted his cheek.  “And thank you for going all protective on me a few moments ago, you chivalrous old wolf, you.”  She smiled at him.

“I need to watch out for you, too.  You’re the only school chum I have left.”  He placed his hand over hers and pressed her hand into his cheek. She put her other hand on the other side of his face and pulled him down, brushing his lips with a sweet, chaste kiss.

“You are too good to me, Remus Lupin,” she said to him lightly.  “And I’m not the only one you have left, or have you forgotten that you have Sirius back?”

Her phrasing was not lost on him: **_you_** _have him back, not **we** have him back_. He sighed.  “Sirius is on the run, and hopefully well hidden.  And I hope he stays that way until his name is cleared.  There isn’t much chance of me seeing him till then.”

“All the better for me to hog your protective person to myself, then,” she said with satisfaction and smiled up at him.  

Seemingly of their own accord, one of his hands cupped her jaw while the other slipped to the back of her neck.  He pulled her in for another kiss, this time not so chaste.  “Hog me all you want,” he said hoarsely, before kissing her deeply again.  

Her arms were slipping around his neck when the hall clock bonged once.  Much to Remus’ dismay, Rinna tore her lips away from him.  “Damn it!  It is half past eleven!  We have an appointment right now!”  She grabbed his wrist and tugged him back to the living room, snatching up her money purse and a shopping list on the way.  

“What appointment?  What are you talking about?”

“I’ll tell you after we floo.  Let’s go!”  She indicated the bowl of floo powder on the mantel.  

\----- -----

Soon they were walking quickly down the sidewalk in Diagon Alley.  “We are meeting Dorrie for lunch at the Rusty Rapier!”

Remus groaned.  _Well, there go any plans for “alone time,”_ he thought frustratedly.  “Thanks for giving me so much advanced warning!”

“Oh, shut it.  She is my only girlfriend.  I’ve missed her since I moved out.”  Suddenly, Rinna stopped in her tracks.

“What is it?” Remus asked with concern.

“I was just thinking.  Do you think we should tell her…” she leaned closer to Remus, “about Sirius?  He was her favorite cousin and she was very upset about what happened with him…”

“I suppose.  But not here in Diagon Alley…too much possibility of someone overhearing us.”

“Agreed.”  She frowned in thought.  “Let’s invite her to my place for dinner and tell her then.”  She did not see Remus’ face fall, nor any of the emotions that flickered briefly across his face. Remus schooled his features to an impassive look, grunted an affirmative, and they resumed their brisk walk, arriving shortly at the little out of the way pub Dorrie favored.

“Sorry we’re late,” Rinna apologized as she slipped in the booth next to her former roommate.  “Remus and I were…uh…”

“Discussing employment options.” Remus interjected smoothly.  

“Wotcher, Remus, Rinna!” they were greeted.  “I wasn’t waiting long.”

“Hello, Tonks.  Long time, no see,” Remus replied.  He took in her short black hair shot through with streaks of burgundy and purple.  Somehow, she always managed to pull off her outrageous styles without looking ridiculous.

“Sorry that it didn’t work out for you at Hogwarts, Remus,” Tonks told him.

He glanced at Rinna, then back to Tonks.  “Well, you’re all caught up with my life, then.  How is the Auror business going for you?” 

“Well, at least I’m not considered a newbie any more.”  She smiled.  “It is going fine, I think.”  She turned to Rinna.  “So tell me, how did ‘Operation Extraction’ go?”  Tonks’ eyes twinkled in anticipation of a good story. 

They took a moment to order lunch, then Rinna recounted the story of retrieving Harry from the Dursleys.  They were all careful to not say any names; secrecy was second nature to these three.  

“So, what do you think of him?” Tonks asked.  Remus had been about to ask that very question.  He leaned in to hear Rinna’s answer.

“Well, he reminds me very much of his mother.”

“You think so?” Remus asked.  “He reminds me very strongly of his father.”

“Oh, no.  He may _look_ a lot like his father, but he is more like his mother,” she argued.

Remus snorted.  “Well, you haven’t seen him in action at Hogwarts; has a real knack for mischief, that one.”

It was Rinna’s turn to snort.  “Methinks _that_ is the pot calling the kettle black!  It takes one to know one, Remy.”  Everyone laughed.  Rinna sat back with a sigh.  “I think I frustrate him.  He wants to know everything, and he doesn’t let up. It’s been really hard…to tell him…things…”

Her companions nodded, discerning what she meant.  It was nice, to be sitting here with the two people who knew her best, Remus and Dorrie, and not have to explain anything because they already understood.  She reflected on the brilliance of the circumstances that had connected her with Dorrie almost three years ago.

Nymphadora Tonks had been living at home while pursuing her Auror training, and, quite frankly, her parents had been driving her mad.  She had desperately wanted to get a place, but could not afford it on her meager salary as a part-time barmaid.  Her former headmaster had provided the solution: Arinna Dunlevy. The two women had gotten a flat (which Tonks still rented) and Tonks had tutored Rinna in the ways of Muggle living.  She had helped Rinna find a job at the same pub she worked at; it had turned out that Rinna had a knack for bartending, which Tonks had laughingly attributed to Rinna’s aptitude for Potions.  

Fortunately, Tonks’ mother, Andromeda, had been all for the arrangement, as she had met Rinna many years before on the arm of her dashing young cousin, Sirius.  Andromeda was a shrewd judge of character, and felt Rinna might be a good influence on her daughter. Rinna and Dorrie had hit it off well, despite an eleven year age difference, and became fast friends, and later, confidantes. 

The arrangement probably could have gone on indefinitely, but Tonks had graduated to a full-fledged Auror and was making a decent salary finally and could afford her own place, which had been a dream of hers.  Rinna had become quite comfortable in the non-magical world, and felt confident she could live on her own.  She had harbored a longing for a cute little house for a while.  So the two went house shopping for Rinna and that was that.  Rinna had moved out a year ago, but they kept in touch at least once a week and remained close friends.

Rinna was pulled back to the present by the snapping of fingers in front of her face.  “Hey, Dunnie!  Come back to earth!”  Tonks teased.

“Sorry!  Was daydreaming for a minute, there.” Rinna grinned sheepishly.

Remus leaned back in the booth and watched as the two girls playfully bickered.  He grinned.  Dunnie and Dorrie they called each other.  No one else was allowed to use those names.  They were, he realized, the two women he’d ever felt the most comfortable around.  _They each know my secret and accept me in spite of it._   He enjoyed the company of both of them, he decided, very much.  He determined he would forgive Tonks her unwitting disruption of the agenda he’d had for the day.

“Are you planning on finishing that?” he asked, pointing to the remains of Tonks’ lunch.

“Nah,” she said, pushing it across the table to him.  “You can have it.”

Rinna frowned.  “I knew you were going to starve if you stayed at Mundungus’ place,” she said darkly.

Tonks grinned as Remus responded, escalating the conversation to a full-scale wrangle.  They went at it like an old married couple.  She was awed to think their friendship spanned more than twenty years, although she knew they’d been apart for ten of those years. She wondered why they just didn’t give in to the inevitable and hook up.  Tonks certainly found Remus attractive, and Dunnie had confessed to having a schoolgirl crush on him in their days at Hogwarts… _ah well, maybe now that Remus isn’t up north at Hogwarts._   She would give her friend six months to get her act together and date the handsome Professor…if she didn’t, _well then it is open season on a certain wolf for me._

“Listen, Dorrie,” Rinna had turned to her, “would you like to join us for dinner tonight?  We have something we need to tell you.”

_Wow, that was fast!_ Tonks thought.  “I have nothing planned, so I’d love to.”

They paid the bill and left the pub.

“All right, then,” said Remus, offering an arm to each of them, “where to?”

“Potion ingredients first, then to a stationery store for Duplicating Parchment, and I have got to find a birthday present for Harry,” Rinna said firmly.

“Did I tell you that I have been invited to his party?” Remus asked her.

“Fantastic!  But were you invited to the pre-party Quidditch match?” Rinna grinned.  “You should come watch.  I’m sure it will be very entertaining…”

The three turned and worked their way down the street arm in arm.

_________________________________________________________________________________

It was late when Tonks emerged from her fireplace in the living room of her flat.  She stumbled clumsily to her room and flopped on her bed.  It had been a long and enjoyable day, and the young metamorphmagus had been anticipating dinner with her friends the entire time.  Much to her chagrin, however, there had not been any confessions of a torrid romance, but instead the rather startling news that Sirius was innocent and had been framed.

Now that would take some getting used to.  She sighed and realized she probably wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight as she was going to be busy trying to wrap her head around all the implications of this news: how it would affect her, Rinna, Remus, the entire wizarding world that she was now pledged to protect and serve… 

She sat up abruptly with a snap of her fingers.  _Of course!  I have connections!_   A self-satisfied smile began to take over her face.  She vowed she would certainly be using her spare time and resources in an all-out effort to clear her cousin’s name.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Hey.”

Remus was startled to find Rinna at his elbow holding the now nearly empty bottle of wine from dinner.  “Hey yourself.”  He was in a somber mood, thinking of Sirius and worried for his friend’s safety.  Retelling the story had brought Sirius to the front of his thoughts, which, in turn, had made him very conflicted about his feelings for Rinna.  He turned from the window he’d been staring out of to her, and noticed she had changed into a low cut blouse and tight skirt.  _Great.  She has to work tonight._

“Want to help me finish this off?” she asked, “There is enough for a few swallows for each of us, and I have a little bit of time before I have to go to work.  My shift starts at eleven.”  

“All right,” he agreed, taking the bottle from her and taking a few sips from it.  

She lightly slapped at his arm.  “Ewww.  I meant for you to drink from a glass, you know!”

He raised an eyebrow at her.  “So you’ve kissed me before, on more than one occasion, I might add,…spanning several decades, I might add…and you are squeamish about sharing a nearly depleted bottle of wine with me?”  He handed the bottle to her with a challenging gleam in his eye and gestured for her to drink up.

“I say!  That is so very unfair: bringing up things I did as a silly little thirteen-year-old.”

“Actually, if I recall correctly, it was your fourteenth birthday, although I was under the impression it was your fifteenth at the time…”

She pulled the bottle from her lips and smiled.  “I had such a crush on you then.”

He took the bottle from her again.  “Really?” he looked at her closely.  

“Really.”  Her smile widened.

“Wish I had known that about twenty years ago.”  He swigged the rest of the wine, and handed the bottle to her.

She eyed the empty bottle in her hands.  “Of course,” she said teasingly, “you were much more of a gentleman back then…”

“I’ll have you know,” he said in his most stately manner, “that I am still a gentleman.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, and I’ll prove it.”  

She cocked her eyebrow and smirked, “Go ahead, then.”

He raised a finger in a most professor-like manner.  “Case in point:  You have been standing in front of me in that outfit, looking dead sexy, for nearly five minutes now, and I have not yet ravaged you.”

Rinna threw her head back and laughed merrily.  “Point well taken,” she said with a saucy grin.  “With ‘yet’ being the operative word, I presume?”

“It certainly could be.” He leered wickedly at her.  Then, his expression softened.  He took the bottle from her hands and set it on the coffee table, and took her now empty hands in his.  

“Look, Rinna.  I’ve spent most of today hoping to get you alone so that we could talk about whether or not we should try to make a go of this…”

“Don’t.”

He stopped, taken aback. “Don’t what?”

She looked at him seriously.  “Don’t ask me how I feel about us.  I am afraid to feel…When I feel…it hurts…”  

He took her in his arms and held her tightly.  

“It hurts…except…”

“Except what?” he whispered.

“Except when I’m with you.  When I am with you, Remus, I almost feel like I might be all right again.”  She wrapped her arms around him and sighed.  

He held her close, resting his chin on the top of her head.  “Hey,” he said eventually.

She pulled away from him a little and looked up at him, a ghost of a smile on her face.  “Hey yourself.”

He grinned at that.  Then his face sobered.  “I’m not going to rush you, or anything.  I can be patient when I set my mind to it…”

Her smile still played at her lips.  “Really?  Because that is a virtue that I’ve never seemed to acquire.”

“I’m trying to be serious, here, Rinna.”

“Remy, I don’t want to analyze or strategize or whatever.  I’m tired of analyzing everything, every thought and emotion that pops into my head.  I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to scrutinize it.  I just want…”

“What?  What is it you want?” he murmured.  The clock in the hallway bonged once.  _Half past ten._

She sighed.  “I just want us to snog each other senseless until I have to go to work, and revel in how good it feels.”

Remus Lupin was not an idiot.  He pulled her back tightly in his arms and said in a most gentlemanly way, “Your wish is my command, my lady.”   

_________________________________________________________________________________                 

**A/N:  Please head to the “review” button and tell me what you thought of it.  Now I know I stated in the summary that this was SB/OC (and I think I mention a little RL/NT)…and I know it looks like I’m not headed that way…but trust me.  It’s just that Rinna and Remus kidnapped me and forced me at gunpoint, uh…make that wand-point, to write about them, and they just seem to have so much chemistry that I couldn’t disappoint them, now could I?**


	8. Romantic Intuition

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 8: Romantic Intuition**

**Disclaimer:  Unfortunately, I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters.  If I did, then I’d be typing this from my vacation home in Cozumel.  And my cabana boy would be bringing me chilled drinks with little paper umbrellas in them.  Shirtless.  Sigh…any characters you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are products of my fertile and fevered imagination.**

**____________________________________________________________________**

Harry sat up in his bed in Ron’s room, the first hints of dawn creeping from behind the curtains.  He’d been roused from a vaguely disturbing dream that seemed to slip from his memory as soon as he woke.  He was filled with foreboding and rubbed absently at the scar on his forehead as he tried to orient himself.  Then he heard what had originally woken him: a tap-tap-tap at the window.  He got up and opened the curtains to the barely breaking day, fumbling with the catch before opening the window.  Hedwig flew in silently and landed on the footboard of Harry’s bed.  He padded over to her and retrieved the letter from her outstretched leg.

“How is he, girl?” he whispered softly.  Hedwig hooted serenely and started preening.  Harry took this to mean all was well with Sirius.  He opened the letter, and read it.  

_Dear Harry,_

_Arinna Dunlevy is your godmother, although why she has not revealed that fact to you, I cannot fathom.  On my discovery last year that you had been placed with your aunt and uncle, I had my doubts about where her loyalties lie, as she was to be your guardian should anything happen to me (per your parents’ wishes).  I wish I could tell you that you can trust her, but I honestly cannot guess as to her motivation for coming back into your life after all these years.  At best, I can say be careful, and if you have any doubts or suspicions, contact Dumbledore or Lupin.  I will be, of course, seeking out additional information about her and I will contact you as soon as I know anything more.  I suspect we will be seeing each other sooner than we expected._

_Take care of yourself,_

_Sirius_

Two hours later, Ron woke to find Harry sitting on the window seat with his knees drawn up to his chin, staring out the window in thought.  

“What’s up, Harry?” he queried.  Harry held the letter out to him.  Ron padded over to take it and sat down on the opposite end of the window seat to read it.  

“What’s he mean when he says ‘I had my doubts about where her loyalties lie?’” Ron wondered.

“Dunno,” was Harry’s lackluster reply.

“And why would he think we can’t trust her?  He was going to marry her, or did marry her, right?”

“Dunno.” 

Ron’s musings were interrupted by a gentle rapping at the boys’ bedroom door, soft enough to not wake them had they been sleeping, but loud enough for them to hear now.

Ron moved quietly to the door and opened it to reveal Hermione looking sleepy with wild hair everywhere.

“Oh, so you _are_ awake, then.  I was hoping you were.  I couldn’t get back to sleep.” She glanced to Harry in the window, who was staring out on the now pink and orange sky despondently.  “What’s going on with him?” she asked Ron softly.

Ron handed her the letter from Sirius.  She looked at it curiously as she walked over to Harry’s bed and sat on the edge to read, absently patting Hedwig as she passed.  

When she was done, she looked at Ron.  She raised her eyebrows inquiringly, jerking her head toward Harry.  Ron knew what she was asking: _is he all right?_   He frowned and shook his head slightly, giving a small shrug: _I’m not sure…he won’t talk to me._   Hermione nodded in comprehension, got up from the bed, and moved to sit with Harry in the window.

“All right, Harry?” she asked quietly.

But Harry was not all right.  He had been stunned by Sirius’ letter: not by the suspicious tone; not by all the things that were said, or left unsaid; but by the implication that Sirius was coming back to England.  _I suspect we will be seeing each other sooner than we expected._

He turned to Hermione, face full of self-reproach.  “He’s coming back here, Mione.  He’s risking himself and returning all because I wrote that wretched note asking for information about Rinna.”  He smacked his forehead with his hand.  “I’m so stupid!  Why did I write him?  He doesn’t have any answers for me; he’s been in Azkaban all this time.  All I did was get him worried and thinking he had to come back to protect me, and why?  Because I was too impatient to wait for answers!”

“Harry, you don’t know for sure that Sirius is coming back…” Hermione started.

Harry interrupted, “Look at the last line.  He’s coming back.  Why else would he say we will be seeing each other sooner than expected?”  He pulled the letter from Hermione’s hand, his voice rising in pitch in his anxiety.  “And look at this part.  It says he will be seeking out more information about her.  He’s going to be putting himself out there asking questions and jeopardizing his safety, and the worst thing is, it will be for nothing.  I already have gotten answers to my questions.”  

“Have you, Harry?” Hermione asked sharply, “Have you really gotten answers?”

This brought Harry up short and reined in his hysteria.  “What do you mean, Mione?”

“I mean that _she_ hasn’t really given you many answers.”  Hermione began to tick off her points on her fingers.  “She told you she was friends with your mum, but hasn’t told you anything about her, really.  She let you discover she was your godmother in a roundabout way.  She hasn’t even told you about her relationship with Sirius!”

Harry and Ron, who had pulled up a chair to join them by the window, were slightly taken aback by her vehemence.

“Don’t you think she would mention something as important as being the fiancée of your godfather?” she demanded.

“Well,” Ron said thoughtfully, “Sirius doesn’t mention it either.”

Hermione’s mouth snapped shut on what she was going to say next, as her eyebrows moved closer together in puzzlement.  She pulled the letter from Harry’s hands.  “You’re right!”

Harry took the letter back and scanned it again.  “I didn’t even notice that.  Why wouldn’t he tell me that, you know, he has a history with her?”

Hermione left the window seat to pace about the room in thought.  She turned to the boys and said, a bit dramatically, “Perhaps it is a _checkered_ history with her, and that’s why he hasn’t mentioned it.”

Ron chortled.  “A ‘checkered history?’  Really, Hermione, have you been reading my mother’s romance novels?  Where do you come up with something like that?”

Hermione’s eyes flashed, and her cheeks reddened in anger.  She crossed her arms and glared at Ron.  “Just because you have all the romantic intuition of a tree stump…”

Ron was actively hooting with laughter now and Harry was smiling.  “Romantic intuition?” Ron howled.  “Since when did nose-in-a-book, practical, rational, no-nonsense Hermione Granger develop ‘romantic intuition?’”

Harry grabbed Ron’s arm.  “No, no.  It’s a genetic thing.  All girls have ‘romantic intuition chromosomes’ you see.  They can lie dormant for long periods of time, but suddenly spring to life…”

“Fine,” Hermione snarled, “If you want to make fun of me, fine.  But I’m not going to stay here and listen.”  With a defiant toss of her hair, she turned and stalked toward the door.

Instantly, the smile fled from Harry’s face.  “No, wait, Hermione!”  He jumped up and crossed the room to grab her arm just as she reached for the doorknob.  “Please don’t go.”  He spun her around and looked at her earnestly.  “We’re sorry for poking fun, aren’t we, Ron?”

Ron managed to pull a reasonably convincing penitent face and nodded vigorously.

“Besides, I really want to hear your ‘checkered history’ theory,” Harry said cajolingly while flashing his most winning smile at her.

Hermione relented.  It was rather hard to stay mad at Harry when he gave her the smile at full voltage.  “Oh, all right.  As long as you two will stop being absolute prats about it.”

“Can’t help it,” Ron quipped.  “It’s genetic.  We have those ‘absolute prat chromosomes,’ you know.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed as he led Hermione back to the window seat.  “They’re located right next to the ‘belching and passing gas chromosomes.’”

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled.  “Honestly, I don’t know why I put up with you two.”

“Why, it’s because we are the wittiest and most charming blokes you know!” declared Ron, puffing out his chest a bit.

“Oh yeah, _that’s_ the reason,” she retorted sarcastically.  She settled herself more comfortably in the window seat and looked up.  A pair each of green and blue eyes was trained on her, radiating genuine interest in what she had to say.  As infuriating as those two could be, it was moments like this that reminded her how good they were for her self-esteem.  She loved it when they hung on her every word, impressed and admiring.

“C’mon, Mione,” Harry wheedled, turning on the charming smile once again.  “Enlighten us on your ‘checkered history’ theory.”

“Yes, O brilliant one, impart your wisdom upon us.”  Ron bowed over her hand and kissed it dramatically.

Oh yes.  Those two really knew how to work her, didn’t they?  She picked up the letter and perused it.  “Well…notice the hostile tone.  He only mentions her name once.  He questions her loyalty, whether or not she can be trusted…doesn’t sound like someone who is all lovey-dovey over her, now does it?”  

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” Harry mused.  

“And it stands to reason,” Hermione continued, “that he wouldn’t question her loyalty unless she had done something disloyal before.”

Harry squirmed uncomfortably.  “Ah come on, Mione, that’s all just speculation.  Besides, he questioned her loyalty because I was placed with the Dursleys, and we all know why she didn’t take me in.  So he’s wrong; it’s not that she was disloyal, it was because she was, well, hospitalized.”

“Well, I still say he doesn’t sound like someone who is in love with her.  I think they had a falling out, and the relationship went bad.”

“Mione, how can you get that from one short letter?”  Ron wondered.

“Not just the letter.  Look at what else we know.” Again, she began to tick off her points on her fingers.  “He didn’t mention their relationship, and she hasn’t either.  She hid all the pictures of him, like she didn’t want to be reminded of him.”

“Then why didn’t she just remove the pictures?” Harry asked.

Hermione waved his words aside.  “And he never asked you about her that night at Hogwarts, you or Professor Lupin.”

It was Ron’s turn to protest.  “There was no time.  They were dealing with Pettigrew and then Lupin turned into a werewolf!  And then you were busy helping Sirius escape.  Not really any chance to say, ‘Excuse me, but would you happen to know about my wife, fiancée, whatever?’”

“And I don’t think they ever were married, by the way,” she continued on, blithely ignoring Ron.

“Hang on, what make’s you say that?” questioned Ron.

“Honestly, Ron, it is so obvious,” she snapped.

“Why don’t you pretend we’re idiots, and spell it out for us?” suggested Harry.

“I don’t have to pretend,” she muttered.  Then she declared, “There are no wedding pictures in her album.  And her last name isn’t ‘Black.’”

“Well, maybe she didn’t change her name.  Some witches don’t, you know.  And maybe she put her wedding pictures in another album,” Ron countered.  

“And maybe I’m right!” Hermione’s voice increased in volume to override Ron’s.  “Don’t you think I could be right?” She turned to Harry.

“I dunno,” he pondered.  “What you are saying does make sense…but…”

“But what, mate?” asked Ron.

“Well, it just seemed that, when we were telling her about Sirius and Pettigrew and everything…well, she seemed to _want_ to hear about him.  And she didn’t act like she was angry, but more like she was…sad, you know?”

“Oh,” said Hermione, taking this in.  Harry was right.  She started to recalculate her assessment.

Ron snapped his fingers.  “Suppose that _he_ broke it off with _her_ , and _she_ is still in love with _him_.  That would make sense, then.”

Hermione and Harry both stared at him, mouths open.

“What?” Ron demanded, “Maybe I do have more ‘romantic intuition’ than a tree stump, after all.”

“Highly doubtful, dear,” countered Hermione, patting Ron on the shoulder patronizingly, “but that was some good deductive reasoning.  There may be hope for you yet.”

”Gee, thanks, Miss Megabrain!” he snarked.

Harry let out a huge sigh.  “The truth is, we have no idea about any of this stuff.  We’re just going around in circles.”

“Well we do know that Sirius doesn’t have any answers for Harry about her,” Hermione pointed out.  “In fact, _we_ know more about her since the night that Harry’s parents…uh, since that night, than _he_ does.”

“And we know that he’s coming back to England to find out more about her,” Harry added.

Hermione started to protest, “Harry, we don’t know for sure that Sirius is coming back…”

“ _I_ know, Hermione,” Harry interrupted with conviction.  “I just know.”

There was a long, thoughtful pause.  Then Ron spoke, “If he _is_ coming back, then he is probably going to come here.  I think we should tell my folks about this.  I sure would hate for Mum and Dad to have a coronary when Sirius shows up at our doorstep.”

“You’re right, Ron,” said Hermione quietly.  “And it would be awful if someone acted first and asked questions later.”

They both looked to Harry.  “I suppose you are right,” he said reluctantly.  He was worried about exposing Sirius’ secret to too many people.  But if he _was_ coming to the Burrow… “I guess we should do it before your dad leaves for work, then.”  

They all stood up, and Hermione and Ron moved toward the door.  When it was opened, the yummy smell of rashers of bacon being cooked up assailed their noses, and three stomachs growled in unison.  “And we can eat breakfast at the same time,” grinned Ron happily as he left the room with Hermione.

Harry paused at his bed, pulled out the green album and flipped to the pages with pictures of Sirius and Rinna.  They looked so happy, like they were giddy-in-love.  He didn’t want to believe Hermione’s theories, or Ron’s for that matter.  He really wanted for them to still be in love; he wanted the hope that they could be his godparents together, that the three of them could be a family.  It was all he could think about since the charm had been taken off the pictures.  He closed the album and slowly turned toward the door.

________________________________________________________________________________

Rinna kicked off her high heeled shoes and changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt.   She glanced at the clock: a quarter to three.  She’d only worked three and a half hours, but she was tired from the day before that she had spent with Remus and Dorrie.  Unfortunately, she could not do what she wanted to do, which was go to sleep and wake up around noon.  She had to reset her internal clock if she was to attend the festivities for Harry’s birthday tomorrow, so she planned on staying up now and not going to bed until this evening.  Ugh.  The thought of a job with normal daytime hours was very tempting, but she had promised Remus she would talk to Albus, and she would keep her word.  

Since there was little else she could accomplish at three in the morning, she took out parchment and began writing to Dumbledore.  She heard the clock strike the hour.  About twenty-five minutes later, she felt she’d written a small novel, but was satisfied with her letter, and she attached the curriculum vitae to the letter before shrinking both down to a more manageable size.  She’d post it later in the day.

The hall clock struck once, bringing her head up and snapping her into a pleasant memory of a very well spent 15 minutes with Remus a few hours ago.  It was nice, she reflected, to kiss just for the sake of kissing, with no ulterior motives.  Granted, their time had been limited, so there wasn’t much chance to progress further, but the last time she could remember when kissing had been the means to an end and not just foreplay was back in school… _with Sirius_ her mind whispered to her.  

Well, yes, with Sirius, of course, but there had been that time, as Remus had reminded her, on her fourteenth birthday, before she had ever thought of Sirius as anything other than a self-centered annoying git who thought he was God’s Gift to Women.  That time when she and Remus had kissed for five wonderful minutes.  If she hadn’t been so naïve, so inexperienced, she would have realized the genuine chemistry they had had, and things may have turned out a lot differently… As it was, it took snogging a few other boys to realize that the whole knee-wobbling, tummy turning, getting all warm down there feeling was not a common one, and by then it was too late to think about pursuing anything with Remus… Sirius Black had entered her stratosphere.

She shook her head with annoyance.  That was twice now in about as many minutes that Sirius had snuck into her thoughts about Remus.  She paused.  And that time when she woke up with Remus in her bed last month, he’d popped into her head then.  And yesterday, when they were walking to the pub… 

Her eyes swept the room and landed on the Silver Dart.  The memory it had brought to her mind a few nights ago had been so vivid…

She growled in vexation.  She used to be so good at blocking him out…what happened?  _You started opening your heart a little; opening it to Harry and to Remus._  She stood stock still.  Her boys.  She had locked them all away in her heart for different reasons all those years ago.  All three of them: Harry, Remus and…Sirius, had been barricaded away so she wouldn’t feel the pain of losing two of them and leaving the third.  

She began pacing the living room in frustration.  So if she was carefully letting Harry and Remus out, well it stood to reason that Sirius would insist on barreling out too.  A specter of a smile tugged at her lips; that was also very in-character for Sirius, making sweeping entrances onto the stage in her mind and demanding she rip her thoughts away from Remus and focus the spotlight on him.  Once he had crossed the trajectory of her orbit back at school, that was how things had been.  He’d always made it impossible for her to entertain thoughts about any other bloke because suddenly he would be there; captivating her, his outrageous personality pulling her in like a magnet attracts a nail…

She ripped herself away from the memory so forcefully that she physically jerked her body, and collided with the old trunk she had set on the ottoman, causing it to tip over and fall.  With an exasperated sound, she dropped to her knees and began picking up the items that had spilled.  Old papers, hair clips, drawings, Quidditch wrist guards, notebooks filled with old Potions notes, school books, a Muggle LP featuring that American boy that Lily had been infatuated with, oh what was his name? Oh, yes, David Cassidy…

Damn it, why did she have to spill that trunk, anyway.  She was trying to get away from memories, not conjure up more of them!  She resolved to slam all the items back into the trunk as fast as she could pick them up and was doing an admirable job of it… _You still have those Quidditch reflexes, old girl.  You’ll need them tomorrow…_ when her hand fell upon an almost square velvet box.

Rinna froze.  All the oxygen seemed to have been sucked from the room, and her breath came in frantic gasps.  _No, no, no…why did I have to find this NOW of all times?_ The box was the size of her outstretched hand and covered in black velvet.  She had no voluntary control of her hands as they moved to open the hinged top.  She had no voluntary control of the memory that flooded her mind.

________________________________________________________________________________

Rinna’s trembling hands opened the box.  Inside, nestled in the black velvet, was a ruby pendant in the shape of a tear drop with three small diamonds at the bale.  She gasped, “It’s beautiful!”

“Here, let’s see how it looks on you,” Sirius suggested as he unclasped the gold chain and walked around behind her.  He reached around her to place the necklace at her throat, and she lifted her hair so he could close the clasp.  She turned around for him to see; it twinkled on her fair skin like a drop of rich red wine.

“Did you know that the ruby has been prized throughout history as a talisman against evil?  Here, take a look,” he said as he turned her around and walked her to the mirror.  She gasped at the image and raised her hand to her throat to touch the gem.  Her eyes found his in the mirror as he stood behind her with his hands resting lightly, yet possessively on her shoulders.

“Oh, Blackie, it’s so beautiful,” she breathed.

“It is almost as gorgeous as you are,” he murmured in a low voice as he swept her hair aside to place a sensuous kiss on her neck.  “I searched near and far for a beautiful ruby for _my_ beautiful Ruby.”  The huskiness in his voice and the languorous kiss on her neck effectively removed the bones from her lower extremities and she swayed.  Strong arms encircled her, and his lips continued their magic.

“Why am I getting this now?” she wanted to know.  She caught his eyes in the mirror.  “My birthday isn’t for two more weeks.”

He smiled his lop-sided smile that had been designed for the sole purpose of making her light-headed.  “Oh, it’s not a birthday present.”

“What?  But you already gave me a Christmas present.”

“Can’t I give you a present for no particular reason?”

“Not when it is as beautiful and, I imagine, expensive as this one, no.  There has got to be a reason.”

“All right, here’s my reason:  The other day, and night, for that matter, was…amazing.”  He stopped, at a loss for words.

A knowing smirk crossed her face.  “Ah, so this is a ‘thanks for finally letting me get in your knickers’ present, then?” she said lightly.

A spasm of hurt crossed Sirius’ face, and he grabbed her shoulders, roughly turning her to face him.  “Damn it, Rinna,” he grated out passionately, “don’t make it sound so cheap.  It meant much more to me than that!”  He flexed his fingers, shaking her slightly.  “I can’t ever imagine being with anyone else but you again, ever.”  He let go of her and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.  “You are…you’re…”

She stepped closer to him, placing her fingers on his lips, looking into his stormy sapphire eyes.  “Shhhh.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I was so flippant.  You know I would never treat your feelings for me lightly.”   Her arms slipped around his neck as she brought her lips close to his ear and whispered her throaty words, “I’m yours.  I don’t want to be anyone’s but yours.”

Once again his lips seared the column of her neck, and once again her knees trembled at the sensation of his lips on her skin.  She raised her chin and sought his mouth with hers.  The intensity of his emotions blazed through her, mingling with her own passion and returning to him through the force of their kiss.  If the world stopped right now, it would be fine with her.  She wouldn’t even notice.  All she was aware of was her man: his lips, his tongue, his hands on her body, and her bursting heart pulsing with fire.

He pulled away, but only by inches, and looked deeply into her eyes.  “Arinna Dunlevy, I love you.”

“And I love you, Sirius Black,” she replied as tears trickled down to her upturned lips.  He pulled her in to his chest in a tight embrace, and she snaked her arms around him just as tightly.

“Ah, Ruby-Red, I could spend forever here in your arms,” he said hoarsely.

“Then why don’t you?” she whispered back.

________________________________________________________________________________

Rinna knelt in front of the ottoman, sobs wracking her body, as she pulled the necklace from the velvet and clasped it around her neck.  She wept for her loss as she had not done in all this time, with plaintive whimpers and loud cries and shuddering gasps.  Her release threatened to rip through her, and she was concerned that she might not be able to stop the flood, but she could not remove her hands from her face or stem the flow of tears.  

Finally it tapered off and she collapsed limply onto the ottoman, resting her head on her arms, spent.  She felt the red briolette as it hung at her throat, bathed in her tears.  It was so monstrously unfair…that she could still love him so after all these years, and when there was little hope that he would ever forgive her or want her again.

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**A/N:  Love it?  Hate it?  Please let me know.  That button down below will lead the way!  Thanks.**


	9. Birthday

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 9: Birthday**

**Disclaimer:  You know, I seem to have to constantly remind myself that I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters, because they are so much fun to take out and play with.  But alas, not mine.  Except for, of course, any characters or places or book titles you see here that you don’t find in her books; they are products of my quirky and creative imagination.  Oh, and I made up the backyard Quidditch rules, too.**

**A/N: I now raise my can of Dr. Pepper in a toast to my fab-yoo-lous beta, Lorett.**

**____________________________________________________________________**

Fingers of sunlight wove their way through the curtains and into the bedroom, tracing a gentle caress across Harry’s face.  He grimaced and squinted his eyes, turning away from the brightness and rolling to his side, hugging the second pillow (having two pillows was a decadence he’d never dreamt of when at the Dursleys) against his chest like a child with a teddy bear.  He smiled and hovered between wake and sleep for several minutes before two things registered in his mind.  The first was he had not been woken by some distressing half-formed dream, and the second was… _it’s my birthday!_

His eyes shot open, and he rolled onto his back with a huge smile on his face.  He was fourteen.  This was the first birthday where he wasn’t in a home that was completely indifferent to it.  Here at the Burrow, not only would his birthday _not_ be ignored, but it would be acknowledged and even celebrated!  

He practically wriggled with excitement.  He’d never had a birthday party before!  Laughter and delight bubbled up in him, eclipsing all the worrisome thoughts that had been plaguing his mind the past few days.  The more mature fourteen-year-old part of him suggested deep in his mind that he was perhaps getting much too worked up over such a childish thing as a birthday party. But the part of him that had seen all of Dudley’s parties over the years, quietly observing but never allowed to participate, and had wistfully wished for a party of his own someday… that little boy part of him kicked the cynical teenaged part of him in the imaginary shins and told him to shut it and let him enjoy his first real birthday ever, damn it!

He was no more capable of staying in bed any longer than he was at reading tea leaves; he had to share his excitement with someone.  He sat up and looked over at Ron, who was peacefully unaware that the day had dawned, or that a large wet area of drool had darkened the pillowcase.  Harry launched himself onto Ron’s bed brandishing his pillow like a broadsword.  Ron sat up with a start, absorbing the full assault of the pillow with his face.

“What the hell?  Gerroff me, you big hippogriff’s arse!” Ron managed to grunt out before the next blow.  Harry laughed wickedly and began a third swing, but Ron countered brilliantly, blocking Harry with his arm and seizing his own pillow to begin his defensive barrage.  It was Ron’s turn to cackle when his wet, drool-drenched pillow connected soundly with the side of Harry’s head, knocking him sideways.

“Ewwww!” yelled Harry, who scooped up another pillow in his free hand; but he found, when he sat back up, both pillows swinging, that Ron was similarly armed.  What had begun as an ambush was quickly evolving into a skirmish…

And then, the door to the bedroom flew open.  With red and brown hair flying, a pillow in each hand, Ginny and Hermione descended on the boys and escalated the situation to a full scale battle.  The next few minutes consisted of ripostes and parries, feints and advances where the soft feathery objects served as both weapon and shield until, as was inevitable, a tell-tale rip was heard and the room was filled with downy feathers drifting down like new fallen snow.  

Molly found them, coated in goose down and laughing hysterically.  She stood in the doorway in her dressing gown, hands on her hips, foot tapping ominously.  The room became suddenly quiet, until Molly’s impassive mouth began to twitch, and try as she might, she could not hold a straight face any longer.  Her mouth quirked into a smile.  “I see that the festivities have begun,” she drawled, eyes twinkling, foot still tapping.

Four mouths began stammering out apologies, but Molly magnanimously waved them aside.  “No, no.  There’s no harm done, and besides, today is a special day,” she beamed at Harry.  She pulled out her wand and muttered a quick _reparo_ and the feathers began to fly back into the tattered pillow, which then stitched itself up.  Molly looked into four pairs of relieved eyes and said, “However, since you lot have an obscene amount of excess energy this morning, you will all follow me to the kitchen to help with breakfast.”

The kids knew better than to groan, and recognized the grace offered to them.  On any other day, Molly Weasley would have been much less generous in doling out punishment for destruction of property.

“Actually, this is a good thing,” Ginny said quietly to the others, “because we can snitch samples before any one else gets to the table.”  The boys brightened considerably at this, and made a show of stampeding down the stairs, trying to impede each other’s progress in order to get to the kitchen first.

Hermione looked at Ginny, who grinned back.  They both rolled their eyes simultaneously and said, in unison, “Boys!” before making their way quickly down the stairs to the kitchen.

________________________________________________________________________________

Rinna jerked out of her sleep, kicking off the covers and knocking the alarm to the ground.  She sat up on the edge, ran her hands through her tousled hair and groaned.  The alarm had pulled her away from unsettling dreams, most of which were quickly receding from her memory.  But the one she had been experiencing when the alarm went off, however, remained vivid behind her eyelids…

_She is in Remus’ embrace; strong, solid arms wrapped around her, protecting her from pain, from feelings.  She doesn’t need to feel anything when she is with Remus.  She senses that he will never ask her to feel anything for him, and she is safe: her fortress walls around her heart are not threatened by him… She tilts her head up, looks into his hazel eyes, and he leans forward and presses his lips to hers.  She drowns in the kiss until he pulls away.  She opens her eyes in surprise at his retreat…opens her eyes to his indigo blue ones…blue eyes…Sirius…_

With another groan, Rinna flopped backwards onto the bed.  She needed to pull herself together.  Today was the day, Harry’s birthday, and she needed her defenses in order, damn it.  She did not need Sirius sneaking in subconsciously, shaving away at emotional masonry already weakened by the Birthday Boy himself.  And Harry _had_ weakened her strongholds, she admitted to herself, and was well on his way to breaching them without even realizing it.  

She briefly considered backing out of going to the party, but realized that would be unconscionable; she would not deliberately hurt her godson.  She heaved herself off the bed and stumbled to the kitchen to brew herself some exceptionally strong tea to jumpstart her morning.

Her fingers reached for the back of her neck, kneading to release the tension there.  She was surprised to feel the chain around her neck; she still was wearing the ruby necklace.  It was odd that she hadn’t noticed it.  When Sirius first gave it to her, it took a week to get used to the feel of it around her neck.  She had been wearing it only twenty-four hours and was so accustomed to its pressure that she’d forgotten it was on her.  It was almost as if her body retained the memory of how it had felt all those years she’d worn it.  

She sighed.  This was not going to help her get over Sirius.  She had realized that her feelings for him had not abated, even after all the years they were stuffed away in the recesses of her heart.  And yet, she knew that it was not logical to expect that anything could come of those feelings now.  Sirius was long gone out of her life, and quite likely was glad of it, all things considered.  She simply needed to get over him.  

Now, if she could just get her heart on the same page as her brain…

She glanced at the clock.  Remus was meeting her soon.  She finished her tea and scones, and went to change.  She stood in front of her vanity, looking at the reflection of the necklace against her bare skin.  She reached up to take it off, but stopped.  It really was quite beautiful.  And it would complement the summer dress she would change into for the party later.  And, if she was honest with herself, now that she had found it again, she was loathe to part with it.  Her contemplation was interrupted by the chime of her front door.

Damn Remus and his promptness!

She pulled on a U2 t-shirt from the concert she and Dorrie had gone to last year, and a pair of cropped jeans, and ran to get the door.

Remus smiled and raised his eyebrows.  “Are you running late?” he asked her.

“No,” she snapped.  “You are just running annoyingly early.”  

He followed her down the hall and stood in the doorway of her room, leaning against the door frame and adopting a look of long-suffering patience.  “Do you have your gift?  And your clothes for the party? What about your broom?”

“Yes, yes and yes.  I just have to get some trainers on, for crying out loud!  You act like I haven’t even gotten out of my pajamas yet.”

He chuckled.  “I’ve obviously underestimated your ability to function before eleven in the morning.  I was expecting to have to drag you out of bed.”  

“Ha!  That just shows that you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Remus Lupin.”  

Remus grinned.  “Maybe I need to study the subject more,” he suggested roguishly. 

Rinna looked up at his mock-innocent expression and felt her heart melt. He was so sweet and charming, and he was _here_.  She felt that flutter she remembered from school in her ribcage.  She was forced to admit she was once again harboring an earnest crush over Remus. 

_Rinna, this is Harry’s day.  You will focus on your godson.  You are going to put all thoughts of Remus and Sirius aside and not think about them any more today._   She looked in the mirror one last time, noting that the necklace was now hidden under her t-shirt.  She grabbed her bag with all her things, and turned for the door.  

The sight of him leaning against the doorway, smiling impishly elevated her heart rate.  _Blast it!_  Remus was not going to make it easy to stop thinking about him, not if he intended to look at her like _that_ today.  She tried to get her thoughts and her pulse under control.

Remus saw her expression change.  “Are you all right?”

“Oh, uh…” she stammered, “just a bit of nerves; it’s been years since I played Quidditch.” It was true; she _was_ feeling a little apprehensive about the upcoming match.

“You’ll be in good company though.  Charlie Weasley and Harry Potter are two of Hogwarts best Seekers,” he said reassuringly.

She scowled playfully at him. “Where is your loyalty, Lupin?  What about James Potter?”

“James was excellent, to be sure, but Charlie was legendary, and Harry has established such a reputation in the three years he’s been playing that he will likely eclipse Charlie’s legacy.”

“Remy, if you are trying to calm my nerves, you are failing miserably…”

“You’ll be fine.  You were an excellent player yourself.”

“Right.  You _do_ know that your use of the past tense isn’t helping any, don’t you?” she grimaced.

Remus rolled his eyes.  “What are you so afraid of?  What’s the worst thing that could happen…you fall off your broom?”

“No, the worst case scenario is that I play badly and make an ass out of myself!”

“Hmmm…Playing badly is worse than severe bodily harm.  It’s nice to know you still have those skewed Quidditch priorities, Dunlevy,” he said sarcastically.

Rinna walked over to him and gently pinched his mouth together with her hand.  “Oh, shut it, you!”

Remus grabbed her hand, and before she could react, he turned her hand up and dropped a kiss into her palm whilst simultaneously wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  She gasped slightly and leaned in toward him.  Remus dropped her hand and cupped her cheek as their lips met in a languorous kiss.

When they broke apart, she brought her hand to his cheek, mirroring his position.  “Now there will be no more of that today, Mr. Lupin,” she said primly.  “I’m not prepared for the full scale inquiry that will happen if Molly Weasley catches wind of any of this, and I suspect you aren’t either.”

“Heavens, no!”  He pretended horror at the thought.  Then he smirked at her.  “I’ll behave myself if you do!”

“I will be the picture of propriety,” she smirked back.

Remus held out his arm to her, “Shall we be off, then?”

She took his arm and beamed at him, “By all means, yes.”

________________________________________________________________________________

Blue eyes snapped open and his body sat bolt upright as Sirius tried to wrench himself from a pleasant dream turned nightmare… 

_She pushes her long red hair out of her face and smiles up at him, slipping her hand behind his neck and pulling him down to her waiting mouth.  Her kiss scorches him, leaving him with pain and longing as she pulls away.  She avoids his eyes, and he growls in anger…he grasps her roughly by the shoulders and turns her around to face away from him…she screams and struggles in his grip…he shoves her roughly away from him toward…toward…black eyes lit with unholy red, black eyes that glitter in triumph as he shoves her toward…the Dark Lord…she screams…_

“No…” he panted as he swept sweat from his brow.  Was it true? Had he pushed her toward…?  _No, no, no_ …Besides, he refused to believe that Rinna would have been allowed within ten kilometers of Harry if she had turned coat all those years ago.  Dumbledore or Lupin would have made sure of it.  

Sirius wished he could contact Lupin, but without an owl, it was impossible.  If he had been thinking straight the other day, he would have had Hedwig deliver a letter to him, too.  As it was, he had no idea where his friend was staying.  He had no idea where Rinna was staying.  But he did know where Harry was: the Weasleys.  He knew exactly where he was going; he’d been there many times all those years ago.  He pictured himself walking up to the Weasleys’ front porch with flowers or candy in his hands…Rinna throwing herself into his arms with a girly squeal… he shook his head to loosen the grip of the memory.  

The dawn was breaking.  He’d only had about two hours of sleep, but he estimated he could make it to Ottery St. Catchpole by early to mid-afternoon if he pressed on.  He needed to get on the road.   He’d lost track of the days, but today was either the 30th or the 31st.  Harry’s birthday.  He didn’t have a present for his godson, but he would make that up to him. Once he had found Rin…er, once he made sure Harry was safe.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Rinna and Remus walked up the steps to the front porch of the Burrow and knocked at the door.  Molly greeted them warmly and handed them each a tall glass of lemonade.  She gestured for them to follow her to the orchard.  Several chaises had been set out in the clearing near the orchard, affording a decent view of what would soon be occurring over the trees.  Tables had been placed strategically, laden with fruit and cookies and pitchers of lemonade.

Bill, Charlie, Ron and Harry were setting up the last hoop.  They waved to the newcomers, and flew down to join the others in the clearing.  “Right,” said Charlie, “looks like we’re all here.  Who’s playing?”  Eight hands shot up while the non-players made their way to the chaises.  

Rinna moved over to stand near Harry, saying quietly, “Happy Birthday, Harry.”  

“Thanks,” he replied, feeling a little awkward around her.  

She could sense it.  “I’m really glad to be here,” she said sincerely.  Then her voice became playful, “but…”

“But what?” 

She smiled cheekily, “I should have my head examined!” On seeing Harry’s eyebrows knit together in puzzlement, she explained, “I must have been completely nutters to agree to play Quidditch with all you young upstarts.  Do you have any idea how long it has been since I’ve sat on a broom?”

The grin on Harry’s face was pure impudence.  “Well, actually I do.  It was a few nights ago.  I saw you.”

Rinna rolled her eyes.  “I meant how long it has been since I’ve been on a broom and played Quidditch, scamp!”  She grinned back at him, grateful that the tension between them had eased.

Harry attempted to school his face to a more respectful look, with minimal success.  “Then no, I don’t.  How long has it been?”

“Long enough that I’ll likely be very sore tomorrow!”

They were interrupted by Charlie, “I say, are you two even listening?”  Harry and Rinna snapped to attention under Charlie’s glare.  Then Rinna glanced sideways at Harry and raised her eyebrow conspiratorially.  He snickered, but quickly put on a guileless face when Charlie glanced sharply at them.  Charlie was certainly taking his self-appointed role of Game Captain seriously. He continued, “How does this sound: two games that last 45 minutes, or until the snitch is caught, with the option of a third match of thirty minutes if we’re not all beat?”  Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Right then.  Is everyone all right with playing any position?  We won’t have any Beaters, of course,” he glanced at Fred and George.  With only four players on each team, there was no need for Beaters.  The twins groaned.

“I suppose, Fred, that we will have to debase ourselves and play the lowly position of Seeker,” said George resignedly, pointedly looking at Charlie and Harry.

Fred heaved sigh of deep suffering.  “I’m afraid so, George.  Or worse, we’ll be Chasers!”  He glanced at Bill.

“Now don’t start a row about what is the best position to play,” Bill advised.  “You’ll never get a consensus from this lot!”  

Harry turned to Rinna.  “What position did you play at school, Rinna?” he asked curiously.

“Oh, well…I played all of them, actually.”  She saw puzzled expressions, so she added, “I spent two years as an alternate before I made the team.”  Harry nodded.  Alternate players, of course, served their team by filling in if a regular player could not practice or compete, but they also served the important role of playing “opposing” team members during practice.  A good alternate could play any position, and switched as needed during practice to help hone the team’s skills.

Charlie had conjured sixteen chips, eight charmed with each player’s name, and four with each team’s colors and positions. Then he pulled out eight jerseys. “The teams are Red vs. Green.”

“Why do they have to be green?” asked Harry as he picked up a dark green jersey with distaste.  “It looks too Slytherin.”

Bill and Charlie glanced up at Rinna, who smiled slightly and shrugged, tilting her head at Harry.  “He is the Birthday Boy, after all,” she said.  “Let Harry choose the team colors.”

“Red vs. Blue,” Harry said decisively.  The jerseys and chips changed from green to blue.

“Then the last thing we need to discuss is the rules…”

“Crikey, Charlie,” protested George, “we’re never going to play at this rate!”  Fortunately, the rules for Backyard Quidditch were rather simple, and the huddle to hash out the issues of penalties and other important details was short.  

Charlie requested that Molly and Remus officiate, and they were each handed a whistle.  The chips were placed in bowls, and Molly chose the players names, while Remus chose the team chip.  Team Blue consisted of George as Keeper, Rinna as Seeker, and Harry and Ron as Chasers.  Charlie was the Keeper for Team Red, and Bill was the Seeker, leaving Fred and Ginny as Chasers.

Everyone kicked off the ground to hover above the orchard.  Rinna flew up next to Harry.  “Not too many of us playing our best positions, are there?” she asked, deviously.  Harry glanced twice at her.  There was a very wicked smirk on her face.

“Just what is your best position, anyway?” He asked in suspicion.  He did not get an answer, for just then the balls were released and the game began.  

Had they charged several galleons for admittance, the match would have been well worth it for sheer entertainment value alone.  The first fifteen minutes was a comedy of errors and at times, it was all they could do to stay on their brooms, everyone was laughing so hard.  Then, as everyone grew more comfortable, the play got more serious.  As a whole, the teams were pretty evenly matched, although Team Red had the advantage of Ginny playing in her element; she was a natural Chaser.  Thirty-five minutes into it, the score was 60-40 to Red’s advantage.

“C’mon!” Harry roared to his team.  “We can take ‘em!”

“Ha!” Ginny taunted.  “You cannot overcome the advantage of an all-Weasley team!”

Since the rules allowed for it with such small teams, Bill and Rinna had been doing a fair bit of Chasing during the match, as the Snitch had yet to make an appearance.  “I hope the Snitch shows up soon,” Bill muttered to Charlie.  “There isn’t much time left to the match.”

Just then, as if on cue, a flicker of gold flashed in Bill’s periphery.  He veered and took off.  Rinna didn’t even bother to search the sky; she merely accelerated in Bill’s direction.  Once she saw where he was heading, she ascended to a position above him and slightly to his right, eyes roaming eagerly.  She did pay close attention to Bill, in case he was bluffing.

There!  A flash of gold to her left.  But Bill was closer, damn it.  Had he seen it?  She banked sharply, and sliced downward, cutting Bill off from the Snitch. He yelled indignantly, and she merely cackled merrily as she swerved again, hot on the trail of the golden ball.  She could feel that Bill was close behind her.  Hoping that Bill would follow her misdirection, she dropped into a steep descent.  When she was sure Bill was following, she slowed slightly, and as he passed her she pulled up sharply, rapidly ascending again.  It was a gamble…had she lost the Snitch?

Once more the gold glint caught her eye and she zoomed toward it.  She heard Bill shouting and cursing below her…he’d cottoned on to her ruse, it seemed.  She had one last trick up her sleeve.  She flew at a level above the plane of the Snitch’s flight, hoping Bill would think the Snitch was above her, since everyone knew it was far easier to reach up for it.  Apparently the plan was working, as Bill was now above her and slightly behind.  She was so close… just a few more feet and she would have it.  

Continuing her deception, she reached up as she put on a burst of speed.  Bill angled downward, and closed the distance, even though he could not see the Snitch.  At the last moment, Rinna flung herself to the side, one leg hooking on the broom as she reached downward and grabbed the Snitch with a triumphant yell.  Bill brushed by overhead, and had she not been hanging under her broom by one hand and one leg, she might have been knocked off.  

Bill circled her.  “That was a dirty trick!” he shouted, but he was grinning.

“What were you going to do: go through me to catch it?” she countered.

“I was going to knock you away, if you must know,” he retorted.

“Ah, so THAT’S how you treat a lady!” she scolded as she swung herself back onto her broom.

“Rinna, darling,” Bill drawled as they began a lazy descent to the clearing, “in Quidditch, there are no ladies.”

The two were mobbed as they landed.  Rinna held up the Snitch in victory as Harry, Ron and George cheered.  “What in the bloody name of Quidditch was THAT?” Fred asked Rinna.

“THAT, my dear Fred,” she said, her manner pure braggadocio, “was what took my team out of third place and put it in the running for the House Cup my seventh year!”

Harry grinned.  He’d followed her every move, anticipating what she was going to do, and had been enthralled.  He’d done similar bluffs many times, but it was fun to watch someone else pull it off.  “You played Seeker then, your final year?”  

“I did for the last two matches, after our Seeker cracked his skull and went temporarily blind in one eye.”

“So, you won the first of the two matches, then,” Ron said.  She nodded.  “How’d you do on the last one?”

She grinned exultantly.  “Let’s just say, we won the House Cup.”

The players took a quick break to drink lemonade and nibble on cookies.  Remus sidled up to Rinna and said quietly, “What the bloody hell was that all about, Miss Pomposity?  I think you just out-swaggered James and Sirius combined!”  He regretted his words when he saw her face fall a bit at the mention of Sirius’ name.

She quickly recovered, however.  “That, my friend, was proving a point.”

“What point would that be, exactly?  Never underestimate the old folks?”

She grimaced at him.  “You’re a funny man today, aren’t you?  I’ll have you know, I am like a fine wine.  I get better with age!”

Remus eyes twinkled.  “Uh huh.”  He paused.  “Was it worth it; proving your non-existent point?”

“Yes.  But remind me of that tomorrow when I’m groaning and I can’t move,” she chuckled ruefully.

The second match pitted Harry, Ginny, George and Bill against Ron, Rinna, Fred and Charlie.  Rinna and Harry drew the Keeper positions, Ginny and Charlie were the Seekers.  Charlie grabbed the Snitch about twenty-five minutes into the game.

“Everyone up for one more short one?”  Charlie called.  No one wanted to say no, even though everyone was hot and sweaty, so the final lineup was drawn.  Rinna and George were Chasers, Fred the Seeker and Bill was the Keeper for Team Red.  Ron was Keeper, Ginny and Charlie were Chasers and Harry was the Seeker for Team Blue.  

Fred groaned, “We don’t have a chance against them with Harry as their Seeker!”  He glanced hopefully at Rinna.  “Wanna be Seeker again?”

“Rather not, Fred.  Chaser was actually my favorite position.  I played it for two and a half years.” 

“Well I hope you are bloody brilliant at it, because otherwise we are doomed,” Fred pronounced gloomily.

The game was actually rather intense, and the Chasers for both teams were moving all over.  The Keepers were forced to work hard as the Quaffles were flung at the hoops practically non-stop.  Everyone knew it was the last match and they were giving it everything they had.  

Bill spotted the Snitch and signaled to Fred, but Harry had seen it, too.  Fred was no match for Harry, but he put forth valiant effort and made Harry work hard to catch it.  

Everyone landed, panting for breath, their hot cheeks reddened with exertion.  They were hot, sweaty and tired, but pleased with the games.  Harry thought he’d never had so much fun.  He grinned as Hermione ran up to him to hug him, and laughed when she pulled back at the last minute.

“Ugh.  You’re all sweaty,” she complained.

“Sorry.  Does that mean I’m not huggable, then?”

She tilted her head and looked at him playfully.  “Oh, you are always huggable.  I just choose to do it when you are cleaned up and smell nicer!”

“Will I get a hug if I clean up, Mione?” asked Ron with a wistful look on his face.

“I suppose that will depend on how nice you smell, too!” she retorted.  She turned back to Harry.  “That was so much fun!”

“Yeah!” Harry agreed.  

“Your godmother is a good player,” Ron commented as they followed the others back to the house to clean up and get ready for the rest of the party.  “She was brilliant Chasing in that last match.”

Harry grinned.  “And she had everybody fooled in the first match.  That was a cunning move she pulled on Bill!”

“Well, that was certainly the happiest I’ve ever seen her look,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

Harry studied Rinna’s back as she walked with Bill and Charlie and Professor Lupin.  They were laughing about something.  She certainly seemed happier and more playful than the other times he’d seen her.  He liked seeing this side of his godmother; he imagined that this is what she must have been like around his mother. 

________________________________________________________________________________

It took some time for everyone to get cleaned up and dressed for the festivities.  Of course, that was to be expected with eight people vying for two bathrooms.  What wasn’t expected was the twins charming the upstairs shower to spew out maple syrup instead of water.  Harry had been given the “honor” of getting first crack at the showers, it being his birthday.  Two seconds after turning on the spigot, he realized he’d been set up.

The last thing George and Fred saw before locking themselves safely in their bedroom was an enraged fourteen-year-old, wrapped in a towel, dark hair plastered to his skull, leaving sticky footprints in the hall as he charged at them, green eyes snapping, yelling, “YOU ARE SO DEAD!”

Fortunately for Harry, the girls were using the bath downstairs in Molly and Arthur’s room and did not see him in his state of sticky undress.  Once Bill could stop laughing, he set the shower to rights and scourgified the stairs and the hallway.  Harry managed to get the syrup out of his hair.  

Hermione found Harry in the living room, alone, which was unusual for this house.  He was looking out the window thoughtfully.  She thought he looked very nice in his jeans and button-down shirt.  She moved close to him. “I hear you got yourself in a sticky situation up there,” she said with a laugh.

Harry groaned at her pun.  “It wasn’t my doing, I’ll tell you that.” He turned and grinned wickedly at her.  “So I’m just standing here plotting my sweet revenge…”

It was Hermione’s turn to groan.  “I will not be pulled into a pun war, Mr. Potter!”

“Why not?  Afraid you’d lose?”

Hermione tossed her hair.  “Oh please, I would not lose!  I am a witty and intelligent person and I can make puns with the best of them!”

Harry’s mouth stretched into his charming grin as he said, “You’ll get no argument from me there.”

Hermione felt herself flush under the intensity of Harry’s smile.  “Well, I, uh… I was looking for you to… uh…”

“Give me the hug you owe me?” he asked.

“Oh.  Right.”  She stepped up to him and put her arms around his neck.  “Happy Birthday, Harry.”

Harry put his arms around her waist and hugged her tight, resting his cheek against hers.  “Thanks, Mione!”  She smelled like flowers and sunshine, and she felt warm and comfortable against him.

She spoke into his shoulder, “You smell nice.”

“That was part of the deal, wasn’t it?  I clean up and smell nice, and I get a hug from my favorite girl.”  He pulled away slightly and looked into her face, his smile even wider than before.  He watched as her lips quirked upward and she blushed a little.  His stomach suddenly felt tingly.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth.

Hermione felt Harry’s heartbeat quicken. At least she thought it was his, but it could easily be hers, she realized, since she was feeling warm and giddy all of a sudden.  She felt herself leaning toward him unconsciously.  She saw his eyes widen.

Harry’s head inclined towards hers as he locked his gaze on her brown eyes.  Her eyes slid shut just a fraction of a second before their lips touched.  Her mouth felt smooth and cushy and warm against his.  He thought his heart might punch through his chest.

They pulled apart and Hermione, for once in her life, could not form a single coherent thought in her head.  She felt like she was filled with helium, about to float away.  She opened her eyes to his brilliant green ones.  “Wow,” she breathed.

“Yeah, wow,” Harry agreed.  

The sound of feet clomping down the stairs shattered the moment.  “Oy, Harry!  Where are you, mate?” came Ron’s voice.  Hermione and Harry quickly stepped apart, a second before Ron came bounding into the room.  He grabbed Harry by the elbow, tugging him toward the door.  “I have a fantastic idea on how to get back at Fred and George.  Now’s our chance, but we’ve got to hurry!”

Harry turned to smile apologetically at Hermione.  She smiled back and watched Ron pull him unceremoniously from the room.  Her fingers drifted up to her lips, and she stood deep in thought until she heard Ginny call her name.

“Oh, there you are!” Ginny said.  “Did you find out?”

“Find out what?” asked Hermione, confused.

“What flavor ice cream Harry wants.”  Ginny put her hands on her hips in a fair imitation of her mother.  “Honestly, what have you been doing all this time?”

“Oh…uh…I tried to ask him, but Ron came and grabbed him away,” Hermione stammered.

Ginny gave her a funny look before flouncing off muttering, “If you want something done right...”

________________________________________________________________________________

Rinna stepped out of the Weasleys’ master bedroom to find Charlie and Remus leaning in the hallway talking animatedly.  Charlie saw her first and he stopped mid-sentence.  “Lupin, I think I’m seeing a vision!” he said dramatically.

Remus turned and took her in and had to agree with Charlie.  Although she wasn’t wearing one of the sexy little numbers she wore to work, she still looked fantastic in a sleeveless summer dress and heeled sandals.  “Hmm…you clean up nicely, Dunlevy,” he said with a grin, since he couldn’t say what he _really_ wanted to in front of Charlie.

She stuck her tongue out at him, then turned to Charlie with a cheeky smile and asked, “Are you always such a flirt, Charlie Weasley?”

Charlie gave her a small bow.  “Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid so.  It’s drop-dead-gorgeous women like you that bring it out in me!”

She laughed, catching Remus’ scowl out of the corner of her eye.  “I’m heading into the kitchen to see if Molly needs any help.  Would either of you louts care to join me?” she asked.

Charlie looked positively alarmed.  “Uh, I think I’ll go see what kind of prank Ron and Harry cooked up to get back at the twins,” he said as he moved quickly for the stairs.  

Rinna looked at Remus.  “Well, care to lend a hand to kitchen work?” she asked pertly.

“Only because it means I’ll get to be close to you,” he replied suavely.

Her eyebrows rose.  “Goodness that was smooth!  Have you been taking lessons from Charlie?”

“I’ll have you know,” he said haughtily, “that I was charming the ladies while Charlie Weasley was still wiping snot on his sleeves.”

She reached up and patted his cheek.  “You are adorable when you are delusional, did you know?”  She squealed as he lunged for her, and scuttled out of the way, making quickly for the kitchen across the house.  He caught up with her at the kitchen door, and pinched her in the side as she stepped through.  She gave a squeak of surprise which caused Molly to turn around.

“Would you like some help, Molly?” Rinna asked, color high in her cheeks.

Molly appraised the two of them who were looking for all the world like teenagers on a lark.  “I’d probably better put both of you to work,” she said, her stern tone belied by her twitching mouth.  “You look like you will get into mischief otherwise.”  She pointed to the plates and silverware.  “You can start with setting the table, please.”

“You are right to keep her occupied, Molly,” Remus teased.  “I’m sure you remember what a troublemaker she used to be!”

Molly pointed a wooden spoon at him, her eyes twinkling.  “Detention for you, Professor, for your cheek!  Now get those glasses and set them out.”  Remus pretended to give wide berth to her spoon and moved to comply. 

Molly turned to Rinna and looked her up and down.  “Rinna, dear, I remember that necklace.  It looks smashing with that dress, like they were meant to be together!” Molly smiled.  Rinna’s hand went to her neck as her cheeks turned pink again.

Remus looked across the table at Rinna and studied the pendant closely.  He hadn’t really even noticed it until Molly pointed it out.  Suddenly, a memory blossomed in his head.

_“Come on, Moony, I need your help.  I don’t know the first thing about buying jewelry for a girl,” Sirius pleading as he pulled Remus into a small shop in Hogsmeade…_

Oh yes, he remembered being forced to accompany Sirius that day, obviously for the sole purpose of moral support since he wasn’t any more experienced at buying gems for girlfriends than Sirius was.  He remembered Sirius’ resolute search for the perfect ruby, and how momentous the occasion felt; Sirius had revealed that he was sure “she is _the one_!” It was that day that Remus realized that Sirius’ heart had been completely captured by a certain Titian-haired lass, and Remus had determined to never entertain any romantic notions of Rinna again.

At the same moment that he felt guilt pierce his heart as he considered the more-than-platonic relationship that appeared to be budding between him and Rinna, a thought seared his mind: _why is she wearing that necklace again?_

________________________________________________________________________________

Had anyone been standing outside the Burrow when the word was given that dinner was ready, they would have been convinced that a herd of wild animals was trapped inside the house and was stampeding, the din of more than a dozen people moving toward the kitchen was so loud.  Then the laughter broke loose as Fred and George made their entrance, dressed completely in magenta-colored clothes all the way down to their trainers and socks (and quite possibly their underwear, but everyone was laughing too hard to ask).  No one needed to inquire as to how Harry and Ron’s prank turned out; it was obviously quite successful.  Even Percy was chuckling.  

After dinner, the entire troupe filed into the living room for the opening of presents.  Harry was given the natty wingback chair as the place of honor, and was handed gifts, lemonade and more gifts.  The room was full of laughter and good cheer and Harry took a minute to bask in the feeling of being the center of it all.  This ranked right up there with catching his first snitch and how he felt each time he returned to Hogwarts.  

The gifts ranged from the extremely practical (broomstick polish) to the unexciting (socks) to the thoughtful (a Quidditch-fact-a-day planner from Hermione).  From Professor Lupin he received a book titled _Producing a Patronus, and other Defensive Magic_ by Gerald LaGuardia.  Rinna had also given him books: one on the history and evolution of competition broomsticks, and the other _Abercrombie to Wronski: The World’s Top Quidditch Players of this Century._ Harry beamed as he thanked everyone.  

After everyone had thumbed through the books and inspected and handled the various other gifts (except, perhaps, the socks), when the conversation had died to a low buzz, Molly suggested that everyone move back into the kitchen for cake and homemade ice cream.  She had finally obtained the necessary information to produce Harry’s favorite flavor: strawberry.

The kids settled at one end of the magically elongated table, the adults at the other closest to the back door.  Fourteen candles were lit on the cake for Harry to blow out, which he did to loud applause.  As everyone enjoyed the dessert, the group broke up into little conversations.  While he was scraping the last of the delicious ice cream from his bowl, Harry caught the mention of his godfather’s name at the opposite end of the table and did his best to eavesdrop on the discussion.

“So, Remus,” Molly said, “the kids told us about what happened at the end of term.  It makes me furious to think that we harbored that, that, that sneaking traitor Pettigrew all this time!”  Molly scowled one of her most terrifying scowls.  Then her expression softened.  “Sirius is truly innocent, then?”

“Yes, Molly, it’s true.  I saw Pettigrew with my own eyes.  He faked everything and set Sirius up to take the fall.  Sirius is innocent.”

Molly turned to Rinna with, “Well, this is good news!”  She saw the look on Rinna’s face: a mixture of sadness, guilt and regret.  “Isn’t it?”  Rinna didn’t answer.  “Rinna?”

Rinna sighed.  “Well, of course it’s good news, Molly.  It means that Sirius isn’t a murderer,” she said unenthusiastically.  

“That’s not what I mean, missy!”

By this point, Ron and Hermione had noticed that Harry was listening to the adults and tuned their ears to the exchange as well. 

Rinna sighed again, “I know, Molly.”

Rinna was behaving unexpectedly, but Molly continued gamely on, “But if Pettigrew is found, and Sirius’ name is cleared, well then the two of you could…”

“It’s complicated, Molly,” Rinna interrupted brusquely, as she glanced at Remus, eyes full of emotion.

Molly opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it.  “I see.”  She watched as Remus and Rinna eyed each other and a small suspicion began to form in her mind.  She decided to test her theory.  “This ‘complication,’ it wouldn’t be a recent one, now would it?”

Rinna pulled her gaze away from Remus, confirming in Molly’s mind that they had been attempting some form of silent communication.  “No.  I’m afraid it is something rather regrettable from a long time ago,” she said glumly.

Molly felt the small bit of hope that Rinna and Sirius might finally find the happiness that had eluded them for so long start to dissolve.  “Is it repairable?” she asked softly.

Rinna put her head in her hand and rubbed her temples.  “To be honest, Molly, I don’t know.  I doubt it.”  She got up abruptly, growing a little agitated at the uncomfortable situation she found herself in.  “Besides, what is the point?  Sirius is long gone, hopefully well hidden, and it is highly unlikely that I will see him anytime in the near future anyway!”  

Of course Molly would expect that Rinna and Sirius get back together.  As far as she knew, there was no other man in Rinna’s life.  And Molly had no idea of the rift Rinna had caused, that she had damaged her relationship with Sirius quite likely beyond repair.  The close proximity of so many people began to press in on Rinna claustrophobically, and she desperately needed some air and some space. She turned and went out the kitchen door, seeking the solace of the backyard, the weight of Molly’s expectations heavy on her heart.

________________________________________________________________________________

It was sometime after three-thirty in the afternoon when Sirius trotted past the main street of Ottery St. Catchpole and onto the lane to the Burrow.  His footpads were sore, and there were burrs in his coat.  He was tired, but he was so close now.  He rounded a bend in the road and there it was, looking exactly as he remembered it: defying all the laws of magic and physics by staying upright.  Now he would need to stay out of sight until he could catch Harry alone.  He made his way to the backyard and positioned himself strategically in some bushes on a little rise by the side garden gate.  It afforded him a view of the back porch and the yard.

He tested the air with his heightened dog senses.  There was definitely a party going on; he could smell all the cooking, and the sweetness of freshly baked cake.  He felt his stomach rumble.  He settled his head on his paws, and waited.

The back door opened, and from his spot in the bushes, Sirius had an unobstructed view.  His eyes fell upon a woman with short red hair, not Weasley red, but darker.  It wasn’t until she began to walk down the steps of the porch that he truly registered it was her.  _Rinna…_ He would recognize that walk, the sway of her hips and the way she carried herself anywhere.  After all, he’d seen it behind closed eyelids every day that he’d been incarcerated.

His mouth went dry, and he couldn’t seem to move.  He watched as a scene began to unfold. Remus had followed her out, and was calling to her.  She was making her way to the side gate, and to his consternation, Sirius noted that she looked distressed.  

Remus quickly took the steps and caught up with her about half-way across the lawn.  He took her arm and spun her around, speaking softly and soothingly to her with words too quiet for Sirius to make out at that distance.  Without thinking, Sirius slunk out of his hiding place and gravitated toward the garden gate, like a moon drawn to its planet. 

\-------- --------

Harry, Ron and Hermione watched as Rinna walked out the back door, followed by Professor Lupin.  “Looks like we were right after all,” Hermione whispered.

Harry looked stricken.  “I have to tell her that Sirius is coming back,” he said in an undertone, and got up to go out the door.  Hermione and Ron followed him, and quickly shut the door behind them.  They saw Rinna and Lupin deep in quiet dialogue, and Harry was about to move off the porch to go to them when Hermione dug her fingers into his elbow and pointed to the side gate.

The trio watched in stunned silence as a large black dog entered the garden, and changed into a tall, raggedy man.

“Oh no,” Harry breathed.

\--------- ---------

Rinna was surprised when Remus stopped mid-sentence.  His hand dropped from her arm, and his eyes widened.  A look of stunned disbelief seized his face as he looked over her shoulder.  She felt goose bumps break out on her arms, and the back of her neck prickled.  She slowly turned around…a tall gaunt man stood not five feet away from her.

Her eyes traveled up his body, taking in the ragged clothes, the too thin frame, unkempt hair and beard.  He was a stranger.  Then she reached his eyes, stormy pools of cerulean blue swirling with emotions that she knew she did not want to name.  She sucked in her breath sharply.  “Sirius.”

“Hullo, Rinna.”  The silence between them was heavy and the air itself felt weighted with heartache and recrimination.  “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

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**A/N:  Ooh, watch out for that cliff, people!  And don’t forget to review; it will make me so happy!**


	10. Aftermath

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 10: Aftermath**

**Disclaimer:  Here’s a big surprise: I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters.  They do, however, seem to want to play around in my head, take me hostage and make me write about them: hence this story.  Any characters or places or book titles you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are products of my fertile and fevered imagination.**

**And now, a brief recap of where we left off…and on with the show!**

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_Her eyes traveled up his body, taking in the ragged clothes, the too thin frame, unkempt hair and beard.  He was a stranger.  Then she reached his eyes, stormy pools of cerulean blue swirling with emotions that she knew she did not want to name.  She sucked in her breath sharply.  “Sirius.”_

_“Hullo, Rinna.”  The silence between them was heavy and the air itself felt weighted with heartache and recrimination.  “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”_

____________________________________

She too had thought she’d never see him again, but when he had escaped from Azkaban, she had lived her days in dread of just such an encounter.  What would she say to him, how could she explain what she had done?   Or, more accurately, how could she explain without summoning the feelings she was desperately trying to keep at bay?

She whispered, “I’m…I’m sorry.  I…can’t… I can’t stay…” She shouldered past him.  He reached out to her, brushing his hand across her arm as she passed, but she didn’t stop.

“Rinna…” his voice was threaded with reproach and longing and desperation.  She stopped as if jerked by the end of a chain.  His next words thrust clear to the core of her heart.  

“You broke my heart, Rinna.”

Her head dropped and her eyes slid shut.  “I know.”  _I broke mine, too._

She turned and dragged her eyes back up to his.  _He deserves an explanation, Rinna._ In a voice barely a decibel above a whisper, she began to speak.  “He wanted you…the Dark Lord.  Don’t you see?  I had to do it…I…I couldn’t…”  She took a deep breath.  “I could not; I _would_ not allow your feelings for me to be used as the bait to lure you in.”  Sirius frowned.  She continued, her eyes pleading for him to understand, “If you had thought I was being threatened in any way, you would have done _anything_ to protect me.  I knew that.  If you no longer cared about me…”

“So you did it to _save_ me?”  His voice was thick with accusation and pain.  “You didn’t trust me enough to tell me the _truth_ , Rinna?  What happened to your faith in me?  What happened to your faith in what we had together?”

His eyes, his presence, his words shook her very being like a tremor shakes the earth.  She stood helplessly as each memory and emotion associated with Sirius Black rose like a wave, and battered at her defenses relentlessly until each surge joined together and decimated her fortress walls like a tsunami levels a seawall.

 “Sirius, the thought of losing you was killing me!”  

“You were never in any danger of losing me!” he cried.  “What happened to you, Rinna?  Did you throw away your discernment, your common sense?  How in the bloody hell would breaking our engagement keep you from losing me?” His voice grew louder in anger, “Explain the logic in that, Rinna, because I sure as hell want to know…”  

He saw the look in her eyes and knew he was going too far.  He couldn’t help himself as the anguish and anger he’d felt and nurtured for thirteen years erupted.  _The irony, of course, is that it was these feelings that helped keep you sane in Azkaban.  She did, in fact, save you by breaking your heart._

Rinna bowed her head, knowing she deserved every iota of his wrath, but that knowledge did not stop the guilt from striking like a thunderclap.  Her citadel of safety she had so carefully crafted around her heart had been swept away; there was no protection from the pain and guilt, and the full weight of her actions crashed in on her, crushing away her breath and threatening her sanity.  

_There is no way you can adequately explain to him why you did what you did.  It will take a miracle for him to forgive you…_ The force of her emotions had driven her to her knees, her face in her hands, breath coming in ragged gasps.  

Sirius watched her crumple to the ground and felt his heart twist.  Heaven help him, but he loved her still.  As angry and hurt as he was, even now he loved her.  

Sirius knelt next to her in concern.  She lifted her head and looked in his eyes, dark like sapphires with emotion.  He could identify what he saw in the depths of her eyes at that moment; after his many years in Azkaban, he recognized the look of despair.  

She began to speak, voice weary and resigned.  “Merlin knows I loved you, Sirius.  Every word I spoke to you that day was a lie…” She broke off with a sob.  Her hand flew to her mouth and she shook her head, unable to continue.

Perhaps it was the movement of her head, or maybe an errant shaft of late afternoon sun had escaped, but a red sparkle at her throat caught Sirius’ attention.  His eyes dropped, then widened as he took in the ruby pendant she wore.  Without thinking, his hand reached out to touch it, and he heard the sharp inhalation of breath as his fingers made contact with her skin.  

His eyes slid back up to hers, and he saw tears pooling there.  “You still have it?” he questioned, hoarsely.  She nodded, unable to trust herself to speak.  “Why?” he wondered.

“I could not bear to part with it,” she managed in a quiet, strained voice.

He let go of the necklace, but kept his eyes on it where it sat, scintillating, on her breastbone.  He considered the words she had left unsaid, which mutely reverberated like an aphonic shout in the silence between them, and spoke louder than her answer ever could.  

They knelt there, next to each other, perfectly still for an eternity, or perhaps just a few moments, until he held out his hand, and lifted her up to her feet.  She couldn’t look him in the face anymore, so she looked at her hand in his instead.  He did not let go.  

At last, after so many years, he knew the truth.

Sirius wasn’t sure what he had expected from this encounter, but the warmth of her hand exploded into his awareness: this hand that he had longed to feel in his again, had dreamt about caressing his face, his body for so many years now.  A sudden shift in the atmosphere became noticeable; like the change in barometric pressure before a thunderstorm.  The air between them almost visibly twanged with tension, the same tension that tugged at him deep in his belly.

Rinna felt the change, too.  Her heart flipped painfully in her chest.  Sirius…had always been her weakness:  one smile, one glimpse into the depths of his eyes, and she would do anything he asked, never regretting it even for a moment.  His laugh filled her with happiness, his sexy lopsided smile made her melt; his sweet words whispered in her ear made her feel safe.  

_No, that was how it used to be_ , she told herself.  _That was how it was before you broke faith with him, before you foreswore your promises and dreams with him._   She had only herself to blame.  He was right; she hadn’t trusted him enough.  _And you have the audacity to ache for him now?  You aren’t deserving of him!_

_Guilt...Pain…Despair..._ the assault on her heart was more than she could bear.  She had no defenses now, no hope of deflecting the emotions that bombarded her and threatened to push her…to push her over…She knew, _knew_ that if she was to survive this unintended encounter with Sirius Black, she would need to make good her escape NOW.

She yanked her hand from his as if his touch burned her.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so very sorry,” she whispered.  “I need to go…I can’t…I can’t…”  _The pain and guilt are too much for me.  I’m a coward_. “I’ve got to go.”

_DON’T LET HER GO THIS TIME!_   His heart screamed at him.  “Rinna…” his voice was raspy, desperate.  

She interrupted him.  “Yours was not the only heart broken,” she said softly to him.  “I…I died that day.”  She turned and bolted.

_DON’T LET HER GO!_   Without conscious thought, Sirius’ legs began to move as words tore from his throat, “RUBY!  WAIT!  Please don’t…”  He thought he saw a hitch in her gait, a hesitation at the use of his endearment for her, and he called out again, “Ruby…please…” But it was too late; he heard a _pop_ and she was gone… “NO!”  His hands balled into fists in frustration as he fell to his knees in the soft grass, stunned.  

___________________________________________________________________________________

Remus Lupin had stood in open-mouthed shock as he watched the scene play out.  His immediate reaction was to Apparate after Rinna, and find her and make sure she was all right; the look on her face had been frighteningly reminiscent of what he’d seen in her eyes so long ago… but the logical part of his mind reminded him there was no way to know where Rinna had gone.  He sighed in frustration, and looked at Sirius on his knees on the lawn.  Remus Lupin knew that, ultimately, at least in his mind, matters of the heart came second to the sacred bond of deepest friendship, and his oldest friend needed him.

He moved quickly to Sirius’ side, and crouched next to him, peering at his face.  Sirius looked utterly lost.  Remus took his arm, and tried to haul him to his feet.  “Come on, Padfoot,” he said gently, but firmly.

Suddenly Harry was at Sirius’ other arm, assisting.  “Harry, help me get him to the porch, please,” Remus indicated the porch steps with his chin.  Harry nodded in understanding and the two were successful in getting Sirius to his feet.  They walked him to the steps and sat him down, each taking the spot on either side.  Hermione and Ron came and sat beyond Harry, unsure what to do.

Remus felt strangely detached from the aching in his chest.  He would have to deal with it later.  He had always been the one to pick up the pieces after any crisis, minor or catastrophic, in his friends’ lives.  It was a skill he’d been gifted with, keeping his head and knowing how to handle people, and he knew he was being called to employ it now.  He took a deep breath, shouldered all his own thoughts and feelings to the side, and prepared to do damage-control.

“Sirius, what in Merlin’s name are you doing here?” he asked.  “Why did you come back?”  Sirius’ head snapped up at the question.  He turned haunted eyes to Remus and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault, Professor,” Harry confessed quietly.  He looked at his shoes, once again ashamed and furious at himself for writing the blasted note to his godfather.  “I sent him a letter asking about Rinna…” 

Sirius made a sharp cutting gesture with his hand.  “It is not Harry’s fault.  He didn’t ask me to come back.  When I read that Rinna had contacted him…I had to make sure Harry was safe.  That she wasn’t…” He looked up at Remus again.  “But when I saw her with you, I knew she was all right.  You wouldn’t have let her near Harry if she wasn’t.”

“Sirius, she never would have…”

“I couldn’t be sure, Moony.”

“I know.”  Remus looked at him soberly.  “You need to know what happened after…after…” he faltered, then took a deep breath and continued resolutely, “after Lily and James died.”

“Why didn’t she take Harry?” Sirius wanted to know.  “She was supposed to take him if I…”  His eyes begged for confirmation that his fiancée had not been a traitor.

“She couldn’t take me,” Harry interrupted again.  “She’d been captured.  By Voldemort.  Captured and tortured.”  The two men turned to him: Remus in surprise that Harry knew this, and Sirius completely shocked by what he heard. Harry looked at Remus.  “Rinna told me.  I asked her why she let me go to the Dursleys.  She told me about…about being in St. Mungo’s after she went…”  His voice trailed off when he saw the horrified look on Sirius’ face.

Sirius turned to Remus, his eyes frosty with malice.  “The bastard got her?”  Remus nodded, his expression also hard as steel.  Sirius shot up from the step, anger radiating off him in waves.  “He just couldn’t wait to get his effing hands on her—“

“Sirius!” Remus said sharply in warning.  Sirius jerked around, and saw his friend roll his eyes toward the teens sitting on the steps with their eyes wide, taking everything in.  Sirius took a deep breath and ran his hands through his disheveled hair. He was so exhausted, he wasn’t even thinking clearly.

Remus got up and put his hands on Sirius’ shoulder.  “I’ll explain everything to you, but we need to find a safe place for you to stay.”  He glanced around, noting that most of the Weasleys had come out to the porch in response to the commotion earlier.  He locked eyes with Molly.  He saw the expression on her face and shook his head.  “He can’t stay here, Molly.  Arthur cannot afford to be caught harboring a fugitive.”

Molly looked at her husband, then at the gaunt man standing in her backyard.  “Sirius,” she said kindly, “Harry told us everything.  Is there anything we can do for you?”  

“Name it,” agreed Arthur.

Sirius wearily scrubbed his face with his hand, then looked at the Weasleys.  “Thank you, but I’m not sure.”  He swayed on his feet.  “I’m sorry.  I’ve been traveling on very little sleep, and I can’t remember when I ate last…”  His knees buckled and Remus steadied him.

Molly clicked her tongue in anger.  “That’s it.  Get him inside this instant!” she snapped.  Harry jumped up and took Sirius’ other arm again.  “He’s starved, sleep-deprived and has had a nasty shock!  I am not turning him away, Arthur!” her defiant eyes met her husband’s.

“I’m not asking you to, Molly,” Arthur said mildly, and he swung open the kitchen door.

Harry and Remus helped Sirius up the steps, and Remus caught Molly’s eye.  She raised her eyebrows, daring him to challenge her authority, but he merely smiled slightly at her and nodded.  “I won’t argue with you, Molly, at least, not for the moment.”  

Ron, Hermione and the rest followed them inside.  Sirius was seated at the table and Molly placed a huge plate of leftovers in front of him and watched to make sure he started eating.  When she felt she had adequately mother-henned him, she stepped over to Remus and asked quietly, “Where did Rinna go?  Is she all right?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied worriedly.  “Could I use the fireplace?  I need to make arrangements for Sirius and I can see if Rinna is home…”

“Of course.  Do you have any idea where you can take him?”  

Remus nodded.  There was one person he could trust, one person he could explain the whole debacle to, and she would agree to help in a heartbeat, at least he _hoped_ she would.  He stepped into the living room, lit the fire, and placed his head in it.  “Tonks?”

Nymphadora Tonks was startled to see Remus’ face in her fireplace.  Warning bells went off immediately in her head; he was supposed to be at Harry’s birthday party.  “Remus, what’s wrong?”

“Is Rinna there?” he asked in concern.

“No.  Why would she be here, she’s supposed to be at Harry’s party with you!”  She saw Remus grimace.  “Bloody hell, Remus!  Is something wrong?  What’s happened?”

Remus sighed wearily.  “Look, Tonks, do you remember the other night, when we had dinner?  What we talked about?”  He saw her nod confusedly.  He had to be very careful about what he said next. “Well, I have a situation here… a stray that needs shelter.”  He waited for her to catch his reference.

Her eyes widened in comprehension.  “You mean…?”

“Right,” he interrupted her.  “I know that it is rather _inconvenient_ to ask, given your _situation_ …but he needs a safe place to stay…”  

Remus could see her contemplating the implications of taking Sirius in.  Just like Arthur, she could little afford to be caught aiding wizarding England’s most notorious renegade.  But Remus was fresh out of ideas.  He could NOT take Sirius to Mundungus Fletcher’s, for obvious reasons, the foremost being that Mundungus probably wouldn’t hesitate to turn him in for the reward money.

Tonks looked at him, determination in her eyes.  “All right, I’ll do it.  But how are we going to get him here unseen?”

Remus grinned in relief.  “Leave it to me.  It will be easier than you think.  Expect us later tonight.”  

“Right.  Now tell me what has happened to Rinna?  You’ve worried me no end.”

“She had an encounter with the stray that upset her.”  Remus shrugged apologetically.  “I can’t say more right now.  Tonks, could you go to her house and see if she’s there?”

Tonks looked at him in frustration.  “I will, but you have a lot of explaining to do, Remus Lupin!”

“I will, I promise.  Thanks, Tonks.”  He removed his head from the fireplace and rubbed it.  He felt a raging headache coming on.  

___________________________________________________________________________________

Molly returned to the table to sit and watch with satisfaction as Sirius tucked in to the food.  He looked up at her and remarked, “Your cooking is even better than I remembered, Molly.”  He realized he was under a great deal of scrutiny, since most of the family had sat back down at the table.  He looked across the table at Harry and his friends.  “Hey, Ron, how’s the leg?” he asked gruffly.

“Oh, uh, it’s fine.  Never better, really,” was Ron’s surprised answer.  

Sirius’ eyes traveled to Ron’s left.  “All right, Hermione?”

She nodded, then added, “How’s Buckbeak?”

“Oh, he’s safe and doing fine.”   Sirius looked around the table at the rest of them.  “Hullo, Bill, Charlie,” he said.  They nodded to him.  

Molly cleared her throat and stepped in to ease the awkwardness.  “Those are the twins, Fred and George. They are not usually that pink. This is Ginny.  Percy is upstairs…”

“Mum, you probably should leave him up there… he doesn’t need to know we are entertaining Sirius Black at this particular moment,” Bill suggested

“Right,” Molly agreed.  She said to Sirius, “The whole family knows the truth.  The kids were quite certain you were coming here, and we didn’t want anyone pulling wands first and asking questions later.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” he said sardonically.  Sirius looked at Harry who was sitting across from him at the table.  “Harry, I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything for you for your birthday.”

“What?”  Harry was incredulous.  “Sirius!  You could be caught and sent back to Azkaban!  How can you be thinking of birthday presents?”  He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.  “Why did you come back, Sirius?  Not that I’m not glad to see you,” he added hurriedly, “but…”

Sirius looked at him piercingly.  “I was worried about you,” he said simply.  

“Because I mentioned Rinna in my letter?”  Harry asked.  Sirius nodded.  “I wish I hadn’t written that stupid letter,” Harry lamented.  “If it hadn’t been for that, you’d never have come back and put yourself back in danger.”  Harry mussed his hair more, looking very anxious.  “Sirius, you need to get out of England!”

Sirius looked at him with a rueful smile.  “I’m afraid it is a bit more complicated now, Harry.  I have unfinished business to attend to.” 

Harry countered, “What? With Rinna?  Why?  She broke your heart!”  He felt fiercely protective of his godfather, and responsible for putting him in danger.  Someone had to make him see how unreasonable he was being, how dangerous it would be for him to stay. 

“Harry,” said Sirius gently, “I need to find out what had happened to her… I need to know—“

“WHY?”  Harry interjected.  Now that he knew it was _Rinna_ who had ended the relationship, he couldn’t understand why Sirius would want to have anything to do with her.

Sirius looked at him for a long moment.  How could he explain to Harry, when he barely knew the answer himself?  “I don’t know…except for the fact that not a day went by while I was in Azkaban that I didn’t think of her…”  He looked into his godson’s worried face.  “Harry,” he said exasperatedly, “I eluded capture this entire past year.  I think I’m quite capable of remaining at large and out of prison.”

Arthur slipped into the conversation.  “Which brings us back to the question of where you will stay…”

“I refuse to bring you and your family into danger, Arthur.  Besides, if I’m not mistaken, I’m betting that Remus is already finagling some solution, and if not…like I said, I am very good at staying hidden.”

“As it would happen,” came a voice from the entry to the kitchen, “I believe I have plan, Padfoot.”

“Well, Moony, that doesn’t surprise me in the least,” Sirius grinned tiredly at his old friend.

“Hang on,” said George.  “Padfoot and Moony?  As in Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers?”

Fred looked stunned.  “As in the Marauder’s Map?”

Remus and Sirius looked at each other slightly wide-eyed, then back at the twins.  “How do you know about the Marauder’s Map?” asked Remus suspiciously, looking at Harry, Ron and Hermione.

“Why, we were the ones…” began Fred.

“Who gave it to Harry,” finished George.

“What on earth are you all talking about?” demanded Molly.  “What map?”

Realization dawned in Remus’ eyes.  “So you’re the ones who…”

“Nicked it from Filch? Yep, that’s us!” said George cockily.  “We sure owe you a great deal…OW!” George rubbed his shoulder where Fred had socked him and glared at his twin who was making odd contortions with his face.  When George followed his brother’s eyes in the direction they were rolling, his gaze fell upon his mother’s very red and irate visage.  George realized his faux pas and gulped.

“What did you nick…?” Molly began dangerously, but she was interrupted by a groan from Sirius who had placed his head in both hands, holding it as if in a great deal of pain.  “Oh, Sirius,” Molly cried as she rushed over to him, “are you all right?”

“I’m sorry, Molly, but I’m just exhausted, and my head is starting to hurt,” Sirius said miserably, head still down in his hands.  “I think I just need some rest…”  He chanced a glance at the twins: all the kids saw him wink conspiratorially.

“Right then,” Remus said in a brisk take-charge tone, “I think I’d better be getting him to a safe place.”  He placed his hands on Sirius’ shoulders.  “That is, if you think you can handle a Tandem Apparition, Sirius?”  Sirius nodded, and then gripped his head again for effect.  “Arthur, Molly, everyone, thank you for your hospitality,” said Remus.  “And happy birthday, Harry.”

Sirius stood and looked at Harry.  “Happy birthday, Harry.  We’ll be in touch, and don’t worry about me.  I’ll be fine.”  He shook Arthur’s hand, “Goodnight, Arthur.”  He stopped in front of Molly, took her hand and bowed over it.  “Thank you, Molly, for all your kindness.  I really appreciate it.”

Molly squeezed his hand and looked into his sunken, haunted eyes.  “I wish there was more I could do for you, Sirius.”

“You’ve done plenty.  I won’t allow you to risk yourselves anymore on my account.”  He squeezed her hand back, then followed Remus to the door.  He was surprised to see Harry already there, blocking his exit.

Harry locked eyes with Sirius for a long moment, and then the two of them moved toward each other for a hug (one of the quick manly kinds that involve a few slaps on the back).  Harry stepped back and said, “Stay safe, Sirius.  That can be your birthday present to me, okay?”

Sirius reached out and ruffled Harry’s hair affectionately.  “Right.”  And without another word, he followed Lupin out.

The two men walked silently out the side gate and into the wooded area behind the house.  “That was a fine bit of dissembling you did back there, Padfoot,” Remus finally commented.  

“Do you reckon we distracted Molly from the twins’ gaffe?” Sirius asked.

“Are you kidding?  You know what she’s like!” was Remus’ reply.

“So she hasn’t mellowed out over the years?”  Sirius asked.

Remus responded with a snort and a dry, “Hardly!”

“Those two boys are goners, then!”  Sirius shook his head sadly.  Then he stumbled.  Remus shot out a hand to steady him as Sirius said, “I hate to say, but it wasn’t really an act, Moony.  I feel completely knackered.”

They stopped walking and Remus pulled from his pocket a ribbon taken from the flotsam of torn gift wrapping that had been left in the Weasley living room.  “Here’s what we’ll do.  I wasn’t joking about the Tandem Apparition, Pads.  You need to transform, and I will Apparate with you in my arms.”  He transfigured the ribbon into a collar and leash.

“Why?” asked Sirius, slightly suspicious.

“Because we are Apparating into suburban London, and I don’t want you seen, nor any trace of you Apparating to be found.”

“Where are we going?” Sirius inquired.

“To your cousin’s.”

“Andromeda’s?”

“No, to her daughter’s…Nymphadora Tonks.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Tonks opened her door to find Remus Lupin standing on her landing with a large, black dog sitting by him.  She cast a puzzled look to the dog, who thumped his tail and opened his mouth in a tongue-lolling grin.  Her eyes returned to Remus, begging the question.

“May we come in, Tonks?” Remus inquired softly.

“Right, right.  Of course!” she exclaimed, regaining her composure and standing aside to let them in.  She followed them into the room saying, “It’s completely warded, Remus.  I set extra spells after we spoke.”

At her words, the large dog changed into the thin rag-tag form of Sirius Black.  “Hullo, Tonks,” he said.  He looked her up and down.  “You have certainly grown up since I last saw you!”

To her credit, she recovered quickly from the shock of finding out her fugitive relative was an Animagus.  “I was ten, Sirius,” she retorted acerbically.  “Of course I’ve grown up!”  Her voice softened, “How are you, cousin?”

“Quite dead on my feet, actually, to be honest.”  

Tonks flew into a flurry of activity.  “Have you eaten?  Shall I make some tea?  Here, sit down.  Put your feet up.” She pushed him to the couch and unceremoniously shoved him down, throwing a ratty knitted afghan over his legs.  “What can I get you?  Anything?”

Remus grinned at the sight of Tonks going all motherly all of a sudden.  Sirius looked like he didn’t know what hit him, but managed to say, “I’ve eaten, but some tea would be nice…”

Tonks whirled and immediately tripped over her own feet.  She stumbled to the kitchen, and the two men heard the teakettle hit the floor, followed by a few muttered oaths.

Remus sat down on a chair, still grinning.  Sirius looked at him a bit wide-eyed.  “I take it she hasn’t outgrown the clumsiness, then?” he queried.

“One of her many endearing qualities, that.”  Remus smirked.

Sirius raised an eyebrow.  “You know her well, then?”

Remus remembered that Sirius was completely in the dark.  “We became reacquainted through Rinna,” he explained.  “The two of them were flat mates for two years.”

Sirius digested this rather startling news.  He pondered what he’d already learned of Rinna this afternoon, and realized that he had not considered that she would have continued on, changing and maturing.  Seeing his young cousin a grown woman brought that fact home.  Neither Rinna nor Remus had spent twelve years in a state of arrested development, or suspended animation, if you will, as he had.  The thought struck fear into his heart: what if they had changed, what if they were not the people he remembered anymore?  

“I think you had better fill me in now, Moony,” he said gravely.  

Tonks managed to get the teacups and teapot to the living room in one piece, and served it without scalding anyone, so she curled up in the remaining armchair with satisfaction and listened as Remus related to Sirius an abridged version of events regarding Rinna since the deaths of the Potters. 

Remus watched as Sirius struggled to keep his eyes open, and found himself punctuating his narrative with the phrase “I can tell you more about that tomorrow” more and more often.  Finally, he stopped and said, “Padfoot, there is something inherently creepy about an unconscious person sleeping with their eyes open, so what do you say I let you close yours and we’ll finish this tomorrow.”

Sirius was about to protest that no, he wanted to hear more, but he realized that he was looking at two very blurry Remuses and conceded defeat.  He stretched himself out on the couch and closed his aching eyes.  Unfortunately, just as he was about to slip into unconsciousness, the thought that had been scrabbling away in the depths of his mind, ever since he saw Rinna turn and run from him, finally broke through to the surface.

His eyes shot open.  “Remus!” he croaked.  

Instantly, his friend was at his side.  “What is it, Sirius?”

“Remus, I came back because of her.  I can’t get her out of my head.”

Remus ignored the spasm around his heart.  “I know, Sirius.”

It was clear that Sirius was now beyond merely exhausted and had slipped into delirium.  “What if it’s too late?  If I’ve lost her forever?  Bloody hell, Moony!” Sirius grabbed at Remus’ arm and looked at him, wild-eyed.  “What if there is another bloke?”

Time seemed to stop for Remus Lupin as he stared at Sirius’ hand on his forearm and blinked.

_This is it.  Now’s your chance to fight for your claim on Rinna’s heart,_ said one part of his mind, the part that had been quietly waiting for such a time as now.  But the more rational side of him pointed out: _You have no claim on Rinna’s heart.  You know she is really in love with Sirius._

_But she loves you,_ the first voice spoke. _You know she does._

_Yes.  She does,_ was the answer.  _She does love me, but not in the way she loves Sirius.  And Sirius is still in love with her.  They deserve another chance at happiness…_

Remus lifted his eyes to Sirius’ face and said, quietly but clearly, “There may have been another bloke…but he’s out of the picture now.”

"Are you sure, Moony?" Sirius searched his friend's face for the confirmation he needed to squelch the disturbing thought that had been tormenting his heart and mind.  

Remus nodded resolutely, sealing his fate. "I'm sure."  

A sigh of relief escaped Sirius’ lips, and his eyes slid closed as his mind allowed sleep to finally claim him.  Remus turned away, a shuttered expression on his tired face.

Tonks, who hadn’t missed the exchange, walked over to where Remus was standing looking morosely into the fire.  She gently touched his shoulder and handed him a newly warmed cup of tea.  “Come join me on the balcony, Remus,” she entreated.  “Let’s talk.”

He followed her out.  “Did you find Rinna?” he asked.

“I flooed her twice, but no answer.”

“Damn it!” he swore, turning around to go back inside.  “I’ve got to find her!”

Tonks grabbed his arm. “Hang on, Remus. She’s fine.  We both know what she does when she is upset.”  She turned him around and led him to one of the ugly dark green plastic chairs that, thankfully, had a garishly striped cushion on it.  He took a seat as she continued, “She is going to go for a run, or beat the stuffing out of a boxing dummy, or both.”

Remus frowned in concern.  “I don’t know, Tonks.  The look on her face when she ran off…”

“She ran off?” Tonks snapped in surprise.  “You failed to mention that detail.  What happened?”

“Sirius showed up unexpectedly at the Weasleys and immediately confronted her about breaking off the engagement.  They had a bit of a row.  At least, Sirius was yelling.  But she seemed to just…I don’t know, it was like all the calm detachment she’s perfected over the years disappeared.”  He looked up at Tonks, eyes dark with worry.  “The look on her face, it reminded me of how she looked that time, when they told her what Sirius allegedly did…”

“When she went mental, you mean,” Tonks whispered, feeling alarm stir in her gut at Remus’ words.

“I’m worried about how she is handling this, Tonks.  I’m worried she is off somewhere drinking herself into oblivion…”

Tonks studied his face, her eyes tracing the lines of worry above his brows.  “You love her, don’t you?” she asked softly.  

He jerked, and eyed her warily.  “Of course I love her,” he replied, a little too hastily, “She’s one of my dearest friends.”

She leaned back in her chair and sighed, affixing him with a look of disdain.  “Oh please, a person has to have a certain level of intelligence to become an Auror, you know.  Don’t insult mine.”  Remus looked at her but didn’t speak.  She leaned forward.  “I’ve known you well for three years, and every time I’ve been with you both the chemistry between you two has been palpable.  I heard what you told Sirius.” She leaned back again, never taking her eyes from his.  “I happen to know that the only bloke in her life is you.  I just hadn’t realized you two had actually hooked up…”

Remus winced.  “We didn’t actually, uh, ‘hook up’ as you so eloquently put it,” he said tartly.  

Tonks arched an eyebrow and looked at him with an iron-hard gaze that he would from now on forever classify as her “Auror look.”  He squirmed.  “So what exactly IS the nature of your relationship, then?” she grilled him.

Remus realized he had made a grave error in judgment about this seemingly clumsy, innocuous witch before him.  Beneath her klutzy, good-natured exterior beat the heart of a ruthless interrogator.  He immediately felt sorry for any perpetrators of crime she ever chanced to apprehend.  

“Remus?” she prompted.

“You are like a bulldog,” he snapped in exasperation.  “It was nothing.”  Her eyebrow arched again.  “Well, there was some snogging.”  Her other eyebrow joined the first.  “All right, you horrible wench.  There was a lot of snogging, if you must know.  But it doesn’t matter now.”

“Why?”

“Because it isn’t me she wants, it’s Sirius.”

She studied him.  “And you know this how?”

“Because it’s his name she calls in her sleep.”  As soon as he said it, he realized his slip.  “It’s not what you’re thinking,” he amended hastily.

“Snogging, and sleeping with her?  My, my, Professor,” she clucked her tongue, enjoying his discomfiture immensely.  

He stood up and threw his arms in the air in vexation.  “We were drunk and ended up in bed together.”  At the look on her face, he realized that once more, the words came out wrong.  He smacked his forehead with his hand.  “Oh shit.”  He took a deep breath, and fixed her with a stern glare.  “We were fully clothed.  Nothing happened.  You,” he pointed his finger at her, “should get your mind out of the gutter.”  

She kicked her feet up onto the plastic table in front of her and smirked saucily at him.  “But why?  It’s so nice and comfy here in the gutter.  You really should try it sometime, Professor,” she purred.

“Tonks, why are you doing this?”

She jumped up with another mercurial change of mood, and strode over to him.  She put her hand on his shoulder.  “I know what you are doing.  You are making your noble sacrifice, stepping aside and denying yourself something you’ve always wanted, for the sake of your friends.  It’s what you _do_ , Remus.”   He looked away from her intense gaze.  “Was this how it was at school, too?  Did you deny your feelings for her then, because of Sirius?” she asked gently.

Remus pulled away from her.  “I’m a werewolf, Tonks,” he said bitterly.  “What do I have to offer any woman, really?” 

She walked around him to face him again.  “Hey,” she put her hand to his cheek, and to her surprise, he didn’t shy away.  “You, as much as the next bloke, deserve the love of a good woman.”  She smiled gently at him.  “I wish you would realize that.”  She leaned forward and kissed his other cheek, astounding him.  “As to what you have to offer… Most women I know are looking for someone who is kind and good, a gentleman who will respect them and cherish them.  Someone like you, Remus.”  She rubbed her thumb across his cheek as she removed her hand, and then turned for the door to the flat.

Remus was so stunned, he was unable to move.  “Where are you going?” he whispered.  

“To try to find Rinna,” she told him.  “Stay here with Sirius.  He needs you right now.”

Remus stayed on the balcony for a long time after she left, his hand on his cheek where she kissed him, and his heart churning with emotions. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The Trio found themselves out on the back porch as Harry’s natal day stretched into evening, and the stars began to twinkle overhead.  Hermione cast an appraising eye over Harry as he sat slumped on the old wicker loveseat staring off into the woods beyond the garden.  She was sitting on the porch railing, leaning against the post that supported the roof.  Ron had pulled up a chair in front of Harry.  The silence had long ago moved from merely uncomfortable to interminable.  Hermione could take it no longer.  With a dramatic sigh, she swung her legs down, hopped off the rail and moved to take a seat next to Harry.

“Really, Harry.  It wasn’t a total loss, this whole day.  It was quite a splendid birthday, for the most part, don’t you think?” she cajoled.  

Ron took his cue from her.  “Yeah, mate.  The Quidditch games were ruddy brilliant!”

Harry knew what they were trying to do: cheer him up.  He could count on them for that, just like he could count on them keeping him company for an hour as he sat in a funk while the sky grew dark.  He could also count on them listening to him telling them exactly where the day went wrong without thinking he was a whiny brat.  Well, without _telling_ him they thought he was a whiny brat, anyway. 

He gave them a half-smile.  “You’re right.  It was a spectacular day.  Right up to the point where Sirius showed up.  No, wait.  I take that back.  Right up until the point that Sirius’ name was brought up over cake and ice cream, and Rinna got all shirty.”

“Well, you can’t really blame her, Harry,” Ron pointed out.  “Mum was practically suggesting that she and Sirius set the wedding date, and in reality she had broken up with him.”  

“And then the two of them had their showdown…” Harry added. 

“Yeah,” Hermione said softly.  “That was pretty awful.”

The little group lapsed into silence again, Harry looking at the weathered floor sullenly.  It was he who shattered the quiet in a shaken voice, “I can’t believe that she broke his heart, that she hurt him.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said as she laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.  Ron leaned forward, his arms across his legs, fingers laced together, a worried expression on his face.  Neither knew what to say.

Harry gave a mirthless little laugh.  “There was a moment there,” he indicated the shadowy spot on the lawn where the scene had taken place, “when I thought they were going to get back together.”  He ran his hand through his hair.  “And then she ran off, and I got this pain in my chest…I wonder if that was what Sirius was feeling like, you know?”

“Harry…” Ron said helplessly.

Harry’s voice rose a little.  “Ever since Bill took the charm off those photos, I’ve been staring at them and thinking about them reuniting and then we could live together, like a family… and now, I don’t think that will ever happen.” His voice quivered, and he swallowed hard.

Hermione let out a little sob and pulled him to her side, laying his head on her shoulder and resting the side of her head against his.  Ron reached out and gripped his knee in sympathy.  They did not want to encourage this fantasy, not after what they had seen that afternoon, but neither did they want to dash his hopes.  By this time, they were getting used to the long silences, so they remained there, providing what comfort they could.

A long time later, Molly stepped to the back door to send the three of them to bed, but when she saw the tableau, she thought better of disturbing them, and instead set about to turning off the lights in the house.  The kids had not realized how late it had gotten.

Harry lifted his head from the warm comfort of Hermione and looked at his two best friends.  “Thanks,” he said hoarsely.

Ron stood up and yawned hugely.  “You coming up, mate?” he asked Harry.

“In a bit.”

“Right.  Well, goodnight Harry, Mione.”

“Night,” they answered in unison.

Harry stood up and stretched, then offered Hermione his hand.  He pulled her up from the seat.  “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.  I just wish I could give you one more birthday present,” she said as she squeezed his hand.

“Really? What’s that?”

“I wish I could make you feel better.”  She smiled sadly at him, then stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the forehead.  “Good night, Harry.”

He found himself reaching for her as she turned away, and he took her hand and pulled her back to him.  “I always feel better when you are around, Mione,” he said seriously as he gazed into her dark eyes.  Her breath caught as he reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.  They held each other’s eyes for several moments longer than they should have.  He leaned in a little, and her breath hitched again as she tilted her chin up.

Harry felt warm all over, and he imagined he felt her pulse quicken where his fingers still gripped her wrist.  Their faces moved closer together as they held each other captive with their eyes until…their noses bumped, painfully. Hermione gasped. “Oh, sorry,” Harry said, embarrassed, and he smiled uncertainly as Hermione let out a nervous giggle.  

“It’s okay,” she said.  After an awkward pause, she added, “Well, good night, Harry,” and this time kissed him on the cheek.  Harry grinned like a fool.

Hermione stopped at the door to the house and turned.  “Happy birthday, Harry,” she said shyly, and then slipped inside.

Harry’s fingers touched the spot on his cheek where her lips had just been and he smiled happily, his worries about his godparents momentarily forgotten, as he made his way in the house and to bed.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N:  I sure would love to hear from EVERYONE who read this chapter; tell me what you thought, what you liked or didn’t like, anything!  Even a two sentence review would be nice.  Heck, I’d love even a two word review!  Wouldn’t you like to make my day just a little bit brighter?  You would?  Oh goody!  Review, review, review!  Thanks.**


	11. Coping

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 11: Coping**

**Disclaimer:  Here’s a big surprise: I don’t own any of JK Rowling’s characters.  They do, however, seem to want to play around in my head, take me hostage and make me write about them: hence this story.  I also do not own Jack Daniels; believe me, I checked my cupboard. Oh, and I don’t own the brand names Jack Daniels or Guinness, either.  Any characters or places you see here that you don’t find in her books, well, they are products of my wild little imagination.**

**Author Note:  In this chapter you will find inappropriate use of alcohol.  I do not condone this behavior, and I ask readers not to emulate it.  There are far better ways to cope.**

**______________________________________________________________________**

The cemetery was washed with the warm late-afternoon light that gave an orangey-yellow glow to the white marble grave markers.  Had her thoughts not been completely jumbled, she would have been grateful for all those emergency Apparition drills she’d been subjected to long ago.  Each Order member had to have a spot they could apparate to under any circumstances, whether exhausted, injured, threatened, or whatever.  It was that ingrained skill that had brought her here; and it was a good thing, for in the state of mind she’d been when she left the Weasleys’ so unceremoniously, she could have easily splinched herself.

But Rinna was not thinking about these things when she arrived in the northwest corner of the cemetery.  In fact, she barely registered the marble markers she stood in front of.  Her mind played the scene she’d just been part of over and over, and it didn’t matter if she shut her eyes or not, she could not make her brain stop.  She shook her head with a sound that was something of a cross between an exclamation of frustration and a sob, and crouched down, unconsciously spreading her hand on the cool marble in front of her.  Her hand made circles on the smooth stone in time to the words chanting mockingly in her head: _You. Broke. My. Heart. You. Broke. My. Heart. You…_

Suddenly, her fingers slipped into a cut in the marble, startling her back to the present.  Her eyes opened to find her fingertips in the “A” of the first name on the marker to the left: Albert Lau Loong.  Her eyes jerked to the right: Avril Dunlevy Lau. Her breath hitched as she looked at the headstones, cheerily bathed in creamy warm light.  If she had been looking for a place to soothe her tumultuous emotions, this was the _last_ place she should have come.

She stood up resolutely, but her eyes flickered down once more to the names on the marble.  Merlin, how she missed them.  She wanted to feel her mother’s arms around her, and hear her gentle cultured voice telling her everything would be all right.  She wanted to hear her stepfather’s lilting speech imparting wise words to her in his accented English… “Mum, Ah Loong, I miss you…” she whispered.

She felt the familiar twitch: the urge for physical release from the intense emotions she was experiencing.  Her legs wanted to move, to run, to run away fast and hard until the muscles in her thighs and calves burned with exertion and she was so exhausted she couldn’t think or listen to her thoughts anymore… 

She looked down at her feet: bah! Sandals were not suitable.  She would have to go home and change.  Yes. That’s what she would do.  There was nothing for her in this place, save painful reminders of tragic loss to further endanger her fragile state of mind.  Trainers… she needed her trainers.  She closed her eyes, blocking out the image of the cemetery, and disappeared with a _pop_.

\----- -----

Usually the pounding of her feet on the path would take on a rhythm that seemed to soothe away any seething, anxious thoughts and helped rein in her emotions.  Tonight, however, as the sun started to set, her footfalls seemed to taunt her: Y _ou. Broke. My. Heart. You. Broke. My. Heart. You…_

She picked up her pace and changed her stride, hoping the new cadence would cancel the tormenting chant, or that she might at least get a nice piercing stitch in her side to distract her.  Oh, she got the stitch, alright, but Sirius’ words continued to echo through her head.  _This is no help._   She shook her head as a horse might shake off an offending fly, trying to dislodge the voice in her mind, but only succeeded in throwing herself off balance.  

She landed on the side of the park path, hard.  Her eyes closed in reaction to the pain of her scraped hands and knees and she immediately saw a pair of indigo eyes filled with hurt and confusion.  _Damn!_ It was no use.  She picked herself up and began to make her way home.

She shoved her way through the door, and went immediately to the kitchen.  She knew what she needed: something that would drown out the words and pictures looping through her mind over and over. She needed to just NOT think for a while, NOT feel for a while.  Part of her hated herself even as she reached into the cupboard: _this is another sign of weakness, you know._  

She determinedly pulled down the fire whiskey decanter.  It was nearly empty.  _What the hell? And what happened to the top?_  Then she remembered drinking the whiskey with Remus, and that she had shattered the top just a few days ago.  _Was it really a few days?  It seems like so long ago.  Never mind.  There is bound to be another bottle…_ But her search through the back of the cupboard brought up only a half-used bottle of cooking sherry.  _Damn._

She turned to the refrigerator.  _There should be a bottle of wine chilling_ … but no, that was consumed the other night with Remus and Dorrie.  Sure enough, she pulled the bottle out of the waste bin, and set it on the table where it mocked her with its emptiness.  She returned to the fridge, and her hand reached further back, encountering a bottle.  _What?_   She pulled it out, and found herself holding a bottle of Guinness.  _Ugh.  Where did that come from?_  Then she remembered that Dumbledore was rather fond of the thick Muggle beer and she had bought some for the strategy meetings earlier that summer.

She laid out her meager stock on the table.  Unfortunately, it would not be sufficient and none of the bottles had refilling charms on them.  But maybe if she drank them fast enough… _My stars, I’m pathetic and desperate._   And yet, her newfound obsession with alcohol _was_ taking her mind off her larger problem somewhat.  She sighed and reached for the beer.  _Couldn’t hurt to try._

She set down the now-empty whiskey bottle (next to the now-empty sherry bottle), annoyed that she and Remus had drunk so much of it last month.  She froze.  _Oh sweet Merlin.  REMUS._ Her heart gave a little spasm.  She groaned as a sandy-haired, hazel-eyed face moved to join the other desultory images that had suddenly sprung again to the forefront of her mind.   Her stomach chose that moment to reject the horrid concoction of alcohol she’d poured into it.  With a strangled sob, she sprinted for the loo.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Nymphadora Tonks stepped out of the fireplace into Rinna’s living room and surveyed the premises.  She had been alarmed enough by Remus’ words that she was determined to do more than poke her head into the fireplace this time, respect for her friend’s privacy be damned.  Nothing seemed amiss here, so she stepped into the kitchen and froze.

_Oh no!  Remus was right,_ she thought as she inventoried the contents of the kitchen table: a decanter of fire whiskey, a bottle of wine, a funny stout bottle of that Muggle beer and a bottle of Fat Friar’s Cooking Sherry.  All were completely empty.  _Bloody hell! Had she drunk all of that?_  Tonks shook her head; she thought she knew her friend very well, but apparently not.  _Well, better find her and assess the damage._

Rinna’s house appeared empty, even her bedroom.  Then Tonks heard a muffled moan coming from the bathroom, and she moved toward the door, pushing it open gently, fearing the worst.  It was not a pretty sight.  Her red-headed friend was lying down with her face on the floor in front of the toilet, one hand still resting on the rim of the bowl, eyes closed and breathing erratically.  Tonks frantically tried to remember the spell to counter the effects of alcohol poisoning.  “Oh shit.”

Rinna’s eyes snapped open and she rolled onto her back, squinting up at Tonks through tear-swollen eyes.  “What?”

“You’re drunk.”

Rinna groaned and sat up.  “I wish.”  She heaved herself up to standing, and went to the sink for her toothbrush.

She was walking awfully well for someone completely pissed.  Tonks was confused.  “You’re not drunk?”

Rinna looked at Tonks’ reflection in the mirror.  “Sadly, unfortunately, distressingly, no.  Not for lack of trying, mind you.”

“But, but, what about all those bottles on the table?”

Rinna snorted and finished brushing her teeth.  She turned and ticked her points on her fingers.  “The wine: empty from the other night.  The sherry: half-full.  The Guinness, nasty stuff, that: all right, that was full.  And the whiskey: only one and a quarter jiggers. None of which lingered in my stomach for even five minutes before I honked it up into the toilet.”  

“Well I should say.  Disgusting combination, that.  Any self-respecting stomach would reject that out of hand,” Tonks replied, a slight smile playing at her mouth now that she was over her fright.  She turned in the doorway as Rinna walked past her and into the bedroom. “Well, if you haven’t been on a bender these last few hours, where have you been?”

Rinna arched an eyebrow at her.  “Didn’t they teach you the fine art of observation in Auror Training, Dorrie?” she asked, dramatically waving her hand down her body.  Tonks took in the track pants, t-shirt and trainers.  “I’ve been running.”

Tonks flopped dramatically onto the comfy armchair in the corner and sighed.  “Give me a break, Dunnie.  I’ve spent the last few hours dealing with an anxious werewolf who was pacing around my flat worried to death that you were drinking yourself into oblivion, and I’m feeling a bit frazzled after that fright you just gave me on your bathroom floor.”  She felt it was wise to avoid mentioning that her renegade cousin was also staying in her flat at that moment.  

“So that’s where Remus is, then,” Rinna whispered.  She sat on the bed and leaned forward, elbows on her knees and head in her hands.  “I just completely left him and ran when Sirius showed up.”

“Dunnie,” Tonks groaned, getting up and moving to sit next to her on the bed, “Is there anything I can do?  Do you want to talk?”

Rinna flopped backward onto the mattress.  “No.  I don’t want to talk about it.   I just want it all to go away.”  Tonks joined her on her back on the bed.  Rinna turned to look at her.  “I’m hoping you brought some of my favorite Muggle stuff…”

Tonks turned on her side and propped her head up on her hand, eyebrows raised.  “That American whiskey?  Jack Daniels?  Well, no.  Sorry, luv; there will be no fling with Captain Jack for you tonight.”

Rinna eyed her grumpily.  “What happened to the Nymphadora Tonks’ Method of Coping: Alcohol…Hmmm?”

“No.  It is the Nymphadora Tonks’ _Formula_ for Coping, and you are forgetting the formula: Alcohol, Dancing and Men.” She cracked a grin.  “You should know, Dunnie, as an excellent potions maker yourself, that ingredients must be combined to be effective…especially ingredients that are potentially lethal on their own…”

Rinna let out a rueful snort.  “Well, that explains why my pathetic attempt at drowning my sorrows failed,” she said dryly.  She grew quiet, staring at the ceiling.

“Sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Tonks inquired softly.  

Rinna let out a long sigh, but didn’t answer.  Finally, she rolled over and grabbed the pillows from the head of the bed, offering one to Tonks, and hugging the other to herself as she rolled on her side.  “It was awful,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes.  “It was bad enough knowing I had broken his heart, but to hear the words come from his own mouth…”  She trailed off.  She looked into Tonks’ sympathetic eyes, caramel brown today, and was suddenly grateful that her young friend had come over.  Her words began pouring out, like dogs loosed before the hunt.

“He said I hadn’t trusted him enough, and he’s right.  I was such an idiot.  I believed I had everything under control and it was just a huge illusion.  I played right into the enemy’s hands.  DAMNIT!”  She slammed her fist into the bed.  “I shattered our lives and for nothing.  I don’t think he will ever be able to forgive me for that.”

“You don’t think so?” asked Tonks, thinking of Sirius’ words to Remus.  

“Well…there was a moment, Dorrie, when I was running out of the Weasleys’ yard, when I thought I heard…no, I must have imagined it.” She shook her head.

Tonks took her arm and shook it gently.  “Imagined what?  Tell me.”

Rinna took a deep breath, afraid of voicing the one thin gossamer strand of hope she’d held on to these last few hours lest it snap and float away.  She suspected this was the only tenuous barrier standing between her and another mental breakdown.  She closed her eyes and murmured, “I thought I heard him say ‘Ruby, wait!’ Then I think he said it again as I apparated.”

“Ruby?” Tonks queried, puzzled.

“It was his pet name for me.”  She rolled onto her back again.  “Why would he call me that?  Why ask me to wait?”  She sat up and turned her anguished gaze to her friend.

Tonks looked at Rinna as she sat up too, and prayed she would say the right thing.  She had never dreamed once in a million years that she would be the one playing the big sister role.  She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.  She was at least fairly certain that Rinna _had_ heard what she thought Sirius had called out as she fled; it made sense with what she had overheard in her apartment.  “Why indeed?  Perhaps you left the conversation too soon.”

Tears flowed from Rinna’s eyes as she spoke, hushed and hesitant.  “I had to leave, I had to.  All these years, I’ve been able to take any errant memory of him, any stray thought, and lock it away so it wouldn’t burn away at my heart.  But when I saw him, face to face, when I looked into his eyes…oh Merlin, his eyes,” she sobbed.  Tonks put an arm around her reassuringly.  She sniffled loudly and continued, “I couldn’t hide any of it away any more.  It was like, like trying to contain a whirlwind…impossible.  It all came rushing in on me, all of it.  How I had betrayed him, betrayed us…”   She tried to catch her shuddering breath.  “How I would _never_ have him again because of what I did… I had to go, I had to, I couldn’t take it anymore, it hurt too much…”  She was crying so hard now that she could no longer speak.

Tonks pulled her into her arms and stroked her back.  “Shhh, shush now.  Let it out.”  Tonks rocked her anguished friend back and forth and held her as she cried.  She had never in the time she’d known her seen Rinna cry like this.

Finally, the sobbing ceased.  “Sorry,” came Rinna’s apology, muffled by Tonks’ shoulder.

“What the hell do you have to be sorry for?  After all the times I cried on _your_ shoulder about stupid men…”

Rinna snorted a quick subdued laugh and pulled away.

Tonks reached out to Rinna’s face with the edge of a pillow case, drying her tears.  “Hey, Rinna luv, I don’t think the main question is whether or not Sirius can forgive you for what you did.”  

Rinna looked at her in surprise.  “What?  What do you mean?”

“I think the question is: can you forgive yourself?”  

_________________________________________________________________________________

Arinna Dunlevy stood nervously at the base of the steps leading up to the front porch of the Burrow, a box of biscuits from her favorite bakery in her hand, anxiously shifting her weight from one leg to the other.  She looked up at the front door with trepidation.  She was sure that she was not emotionally ready to go in and face the interrogation that was sure to come from Molly after that little performance in the backyard yesterday afternoon.  However, she had been raised in a very proper wizarding home, and good manners had been drilled into her from an early age, and her conscience demanded that she apologize for the appalling breach of social etiquette she had perpetrated when she ran away yesterday.

She sighed.  If she was smart, she would turn and leave now. She was under the assault of many different emotions swirling around in her mind, and really, she was no better off than she had been last night.  Try as she might to take each memory captive and tamp it down into the recesses of her heart, her mind refused to have any part of that old method of survival.  It was ironic, that just when she needed it the most, the coping mechanism she had relied on, since childhood, really, if she was honest with herself, had failed her.  And so she stood there, thoughts of Sirius and Remus making her heart ache, angry with herself, and full of shame for her behavior.  

She climbed up the steps, hissing at the discomfort she was already feeling in her body from the Quidditch game yesterday.  But the aching in her muscles was nothing compared to the aching she felt in her heart.  She was too raw.  _I should leave._

Numbly, she knocked on the door.  Suddenly she found herself caught up in Molly’s embrace.  “Oh, thank heavens you are all right!  I was very worried about you, luv!”  She was pulled into the kitchen.  “I have the teakettle going.  We’ll have a spot of tea.”  Rinna silently handed her the bakery box.  “Oh, splendid.  These will go nicely.”  

As she bustled about with the preparations, Molly glanced and saw that Rinna was still standing in the middle of the kitchen.  “Come, sit, sit!  Don’t just stand there.  Let’s drink our tea and then I will find your things that you left here yesterday.”

“Molly, I am so sorry for running off like that.”  Rinna said miserably.

Molly waved her off.  “Rinna, it was understandable, after the shock you had.  Now, sit.”

Rinna sat.  “How much of that debacle did you witness, anyway?” she asked.

Molly poured the tea.  “Pretty much all of it, I’d say.  Enough to get the gist of what had happened between you and Sirius.”  

Rinna groaned and dropped her head in her hands.  “I had no idea that he would show up like that.  I’m so sorry that you, that everybody had to witness that scene,” she said with what sounded suspiciously like a sob.   

Molly put a sympathetic hand on Rinna’s shoulder. “Are you all right, Dearie?”  Rinna shook her head.  “Do you want to talk about it?”  Rinna shook her head again.  Molly sighed and made a moue of frustration.  “Well, have you had anything to eat?”

Rinna shook her head once more.  “I’m not terribly hungry,” she said dully.  Her stomach was feeling the effects of her emotional turmoil.

Whatever Molly was going to say in reply was interrupted by the banging of the back door as four teenaged bodies flung it open and plowed inside, flushed and sweaty from being outdoors and talking animatedly.  The chatter died out when they saw the kitchen was occupied.

Rinna hastily stood up.  “Hullo, Harry.”

“Uh, hi,” came Harry’s hesitant reply.  He was surprised to see her there.

“I, uh, came to tell you I’m sorry.  For running off like I did yesterday,” she said uncomfortably.

“Oh.  Okay.”

The awkward silence pressed in on her.  She turned to Molly.  “Right.  Well, I need to get home, so I’ll just get my things and…”

“Just a minute, dear, I’ll go get them,” Molly assured her, sensing Rinna’s discomfort.  Rinna hastily followed Molly out of the kitchen.  

“Wait, Rinna!” called Harry as he ran after her, causing his godmother to jump, she was so wound up.  She turned to him, puzzled.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that Sirius was coming.”

Rinna’s brows furrowed into a frown.  “Hang on.  You knew he was coming?”  Harry nodded, shamefaced.  “How could you have possibly known that?” she asked carefully.

Harry stammered, “Oh, uh, the first night I met you, I wrote him a letter, asking about you.”

“You wrote him a letter about me,” she repeated faintly.

Harry hung his head a little and nodded.  “And he wrote me back.”

“He wrote you back?” she asked incredulously.  “And he told you he was coming to the Burrow?”

Harry scuffed his trainer on the floor.  He cleared his throat and glanced at Ron and Hermione, who were pointedly looking anywhere but at Rinna.  He was regretting opening his big mouth. “Well, not exactly…”

Rinna didn’t miss the furtive exchange of glances.  “What do you mean by ‘not exactly?’” she inquired dubiously.  Harry developed a sudden fascination with his trainers.  Rinna’s eyes narrowed.  “May I see this letter?” she said with disconcerting calm.  Harry fidgeted nervously.  “You still have the letter, don’t you?” she asked.

 “Well, I’m not sure where it is,” he hedged.

Rinna sighed and closed her eyes and began rubbing her temples with her fingertips.  Her tone held more than a hint of impatience.  “Do you suppose you could find it for me?”

Harry looked at his friends again.  They stared at him wide-eyed, no help whatsoever.  “Uh, I guess so.  I’ll go try to find it,” Harry replied reluctantly.  He turned and slowly went up the stairs.  Rinna huffed in exasperation.  She’d seen flobberworms move faster than he did.  Ginny, Hermione and Ron, deciding they might be safer if they followed Harry, carefully avoided Rinna’s gaze and slunk off after their friend.

Molly had returned and caught the end of the exchange.  She looked at Rinna curiously, but didn’t say anything.  She simply set Rinna’s things down and watched as Rinna nervously paced, obviously on tenterhooks.  Harry seemed to take a long time.

Finally, he returned, Ron, Hermione and Ginny behind him.  Rinna gestured impatiently to him, hand outstretched and fingers wriggling, and he slowly walked to her to grudgingly hand her the letter.  Harry knew the letter was less than flattering.  He wished he had lied and told her he didn’t have it anymore.

As she opened the letter, Rinna felt a pang at seeing the familiar handwriting after so long.  She began to read, and let out a snort at the first line.  She continued to read, her lips moving ever so slightly, when she suddenly stopped.  “What?  He had doubts about where my loyalties lie?” she muttered.  

Harry looked at her nervously.  The pale skin of her face was beginning to turn red, and her mouth was pressed into a thin, hard line.  He saw the movement of her eyes as she scanned the next line.

“What?! ‘I wish I could tell you that you can trust her?’  He doesn’t think I’m trustworthy?”  Her indignation was mounting, and her ears were now flushing pink.  Harry took a cautious step backwards.  “‘Be careful?!’  Who the hell does he…”  Rinna felt like a spring being stretched too far.   

Harry jumped when Rinna’s eyes snapped from the letter to his face.  “How long have you had this letter?” she barked.

“Uh, not long.  I got it a couple of days ago…”

She had already returned to reading the rest of the contents of the letter, and began to mutter more angrily, “Remus didn’t say anything about this.  I need to talk to Remus.”  She heard a roaring in her ears as her anger began to mount.  The last little rational part of her mind really wished she had not come to the Burrow today, as she was incapable of controlling the fury that suddenly consumed her at reading Sirius’ hurtful assessment of her.  She crumpled the letter in her hand and swore.  Everyone flinched.  

 

She threw the letter down in her temper and strode swiftly into the living room to stand at the fireplace.  Molly quickly followed her. “Rinna dear, calm down!  I’m sure there is a good explanation.”  

Hermione leaned over to Harry and murmured, “Well, here’s proof that the Weasleys don’t hold exclusive rights to that red-headed temper.”  

Harry cast her a flabbergasted look.  His godmother looked like she was going to burst a blood vessel, and Hermione was joking?  Couldn’t she see that this was all his fault?  _Stupid, wretched letter!_ Writing it had been one of his most idiotic blunders ever.  He moved toward the living room, and the others followed.

The four teens crowded through the living room door right as Rinna pulled out her wand and pointed it at the fireplace.  “ _Incendio!_ ” she bit out.  Flinging some floo powder in, she crouched down and thrust her face in the fire.

\----- -----

Rinna’s head appeared in the fireplace at Tonks’ flat.  “Dorrie?  Dorrie!  Is Remus still there?  I need to talk to him!” Rinna’s voice was shrill. 

Remus was so startled that he immediately stood up and strode to the fireplace.  “What is it, Rin—“  His voice died as he took in the expression on her face.  _Uh oh.  Big trouble._   He hadn’t seen her this livid in quite some time.

“Remus,” she snapped, eyes flashing with angry fire, _or was it just the flames?  Please just let it be the flames…_ Remus remembered the few times Rinna had been in a snit like this one, and he’d been grateful he had never been on the receiving end of it.  It would seem his luck had run out today.  Not that that wouldn’t be in keeping with the theme of the last two days anyway…

“Remus!”

His eyes snapped back to hers.  _No, it definitely wasn’t the light from the fireplace.  Damn._   His voice was calm, belying the very unsettled feeling that was descending on him at the moment, “I’m right here, Rinna.”  He could see the Weasley living room behind her, and he noticed Harry there, looking very upset and guilty.

“Were you aware that Harry wrote a letter to Sirius?” she demanded.

Remus watched as Harry winced and began slinking his way toward the living room door with Ron and Hermione in tow.  “Not until yesterday afternoon when Harry and Sirius told me,” he answered, still calmly.

“And that Sirius wrote him back?”

“Uh, no… I wasn’t aware of that,” he replied, wondering where this was going.  He turned to look at Sirius, who was out of the line of sight of the fireplace, and mouthed, “What the bloody hell did you write to rile her up like that?”  

Sirius merely shrugged.  He was enjoying the scene so far; he remembered the few times Rinna had been in a snit like this one.  Most of them had been directed at him.  Those had always ended very satisfactorily with some kind of snogging, heavy groping or make-up sex.  He felt a small flame of hope kindle in his chest.

“He wrote, oh by all the bloody moons of Jupiter, I can’t believe what he wrote, Remus,” she shrilled.  “He bloody wrote ‘I had my doubts about where her loyalties lie.’  He questioned my effing loyalty, Remus!”  She was in full-blown tirade mode now, and there was no stopping her.  Remus just winced and braced for the blast from the storm.  “What the hell does he mean by questioning my loyalty?  Since when did Sirius ever question my loyalty?” she cried.

Now Remus noted that Molly was rounding the kids up, most likely to get them away from all the swearing.  “Well,” Remus said very carefully, “when you broke your engagement with him...”  He looked very uncomfortable.

Rinna looked at him with deceptive calm.  When she spoke again, her voice was soft and dangerous.  “I thought you said Sirius thought you and I were having an affair…”  She ignored the surprised gasps behind her.  In fact, for all she was aware, the Burrow no longer existed.

Remus glanced at Sirius, who had an amused expression.  This made Remus very disgruntled.  “Well, that was one of the theories he had come up with, yes…” he said defensively.

Rinna glared at him.  “You failed to mention that he’d come up with a nice ‘turning to the dark side’ hypothesis as well,” she said icily.

Sirius chuckled.  “I thought you said she had changed, Moony.”

Remus turned and glared at him.  “Shut it, you!  You are not helping!”

“What did you say?” came Rinna’s sharp voice.

“Uh, look Rinna…” he began.

“How could he have thought that?  That I, ME of all people, would join Voldemort?  Was he barmy?” she said furiously.

“She’s a right spitfire, just like old times,” Sirius commented.  “Tell me, Moony, does she look as sexy as she used to, all fired up like that?”

Remus cocked his head around and fixed Sirius with a withering scowl.  “I told you to SHUT IT!”

“I beg your pardon?” Rinna said indignantly, completely offended.

“No, no, not you,” he said, turning back to the fireplace.

“What?” she shrieked.  “Is HE there?”  The look on Remus’ face must have given him away, because she began to climb through the fireplace.  “That’s it.  I’m coming over there!”  Without so much as a by your leave to the Weasleys or Harry, she flooed into Tonks’ flat.

“What?  No!  Rinna, wait!” Remus began frantically, but it was too late.  She was there, brushing soot off her shoulders and searching the room for one Sirius Black.

Her thunderstorm eyes locked onto his as he stood to face her.  “How **could** you?” she challenged. “How could you ever think I would go to that bastard’s side?”  She advanced on him, her fury blistering the air. 

Remus was quite convinced that she had crossed over the demarcation of rationality, and he got his wand ready to disarm the situation.  He was surprised when she stopped in front of Sirius, instead of doing him bodily harm, and stood with her hands on her hips, sparks of anger almost visibly snapping off of her.

“Well?” she inquired wrathfully.

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and studied her impassively.  There was no trace of mischief on his face now.  “Well…” he drawled sardonically, “may I point out that **you** thought I was a mass murderer, and that **I** had gone over to his side?”

“Oh.”  The air rushed out of her lungs as the anger flowed out of her body and she visibly wilted.  Sirius’ hand reached out to catch her elbow as she swayed, and he solicitously walked her to the nearest armchair.  “Oh,” she said again in a quiet, shamed voice as she sat down.  She leaned back and closed her eyes, a pained look on her face.

Remus sprang into action, bringing a bottle and a glass from the cabinet over to Rinna.  “Here.”  He poured it and handed her the glass.  She eyed it warily.  “It’s your favorite Muggle stuff,” he added, showing her the bottle.

She noted the familiar black label, then glared up at him.  “I beg your pardon, but aren’t you the one who seems to think I have a drinking problem?” she asked sarcastically.

Remus gave her a measuring look.  “In this case, I’m here to monitor your intake.”

“Right.  And we both know how that turned out the last time, don’t we?” she pointed out scathingly.

“Don’t…” he began, nervously flicking his gaze to Sirius, who had sat down and was watching the exchange with much interest.

“I won’t.  I’m not a complete idiot, I’ll have you know,” she interrupted acerbically.  She snorted.  “Although, I will admit you could argue the credibility of my last statement based on my behavior today.”  She contemplated the glass in her hand, swirling the liquid a few times, and considered handing it back to Remus.  “Ah, bugger it!”  She knocked it back.

Remus looked at her coolly.  “I’m willing to settle for ‘half-wit’ and call it even,” he deadpanned.

Rinna’s mouth hung open in indignant shock for a few seconds before she huffed out a laugh.  She hurled a small decorative pillow she seized from the armchair, smirking and cackling in triumph as it connected soundly with Remus’ midsection.

Sirius felt a pang of jealousy at being excluded from the easy, albeit tense at the moment, camaraderie between the two of them.  He was impressed with the skill Remus used to disarm the clearly hacked off Rinna. _He’s probably had lots of practice,_ he surmised.  His eyes wandered back to Rinna as Remus sat on the couch, making a deliberate show of using the pillow Rinna had thrown as a headrest.  Sirius was startled to find green eyes studying him carefully.

“You look like you could use a drink, too,” she observed.  

“Well,” he stated mildly, “it’s been a while.”

She reached toward Remus, flexing her fingers to indicate he should hand over the bottle.  She poured more into the glass she held and got up to walk it over to Sirius.  

Rinna handed him the glass and turned, but Sirius quickly took her hand in his.  She turned back to him in surprise.  He caught her gaze with his eyes.  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  Somehow she knew he was talking about his outburst in the Weasley garden yesterday.  He saw a change flicker in her emerald eyes as they softened.

She took in his bedraggled appearance, his hollow cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes that one mere night of sleep could not yet erase.  Even though he’d cleaned himself up, he still looked like he had been through hell.  _And he has._   “I’m sorry, too,” was her soft reply.  Somehow he knew she was talking about more than her tantrum earlier.  He nodded.

She pulled her hand from his and returned to her chair to watch him sip the whiskey.  He grimaced and gave a little shudder.  “What is this stuff?”

“American whiskey.  Muggle liquor.”  She chuckled ruefully. “I’ve picked up a few bad habits over the years.”  Remus snorted and she turned to glare at him.  “As I’m sure Remus can tell you.”

Remus snorted again.  “Really, Rinna, thirteen years’ worth of bad habits…It could take days to cover…”

She searched for another pillow, but at the sound of Sirius’ chuckle, she whipped her head around to include him in her glare.  He tipped the glass of whiskey at her in a cheeky salute and tossed it back.

When he put the glass down, he found Rinna looking at him gravely.  “Why did you come back, Sirius?”

“You don’t know?” he said gently.  Her eyes dropped to the floor.  “I came back because of you.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N:  I really, really, _really_ love to hear from my readers…hint, hint.  Please, won’t you take a minute or two and leave me a review?  **

**A little note about Chinese names:  according to my research, the Chinese use their family name first, then their given name.  If a Western name is given to a child, or an adult adopts a Western name, he or she will follow the Western convention of listing that name first.  Hence, Rinna’s stepfather’s name at the beginning of the chapter follows this sequence: Western name, family name, given name.  Rinna’s mother’s name follows the sequence we are most familiar with.  Also, the diminutive or familiar form of the Chinese given name has “Ah” in front of it.  I just found that interesting, and I hope you did, too.  (Now if I have really gotten this all wrong, will someone please let me know?)**


	12. Second Chances

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 12: Second Chances**

**Disclaimer:  Sadly, I do not own any of JK Rowling’s characters or any portion of the Harry Potter universe.  Any characters, places, situations or whatnot that you don’t find in her fabulous books, well they are mine.  I WISH I owned Sirius and Remus, ‘cause then I would take them and…uh, (glances at all the readers looking at me in deep concern), hmmm…scratch that.**

**______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

 

Harry sat out on the back porch, morosely staring at nothing in particular.  He heard the back door open, then close.  Footsteps moved toward him, squeaking the floorboards as they came.  He had to smile, in spite of his mood, as he realized who had joined him.  “How is Ron doing?” he asked Hermione.

Hermione sat down in the wicker love seat next to him and sighed.  After the upsetting encounter with Rinna, Ron and Hermione had dragged a very despondent Harry to the kitchen to talk.  Ron had spied a bowl of sweets on the table, and had tried to convince Harry that a few candies would help him feel better.  Harry, who at that point felt almost nauseous, had declined.  That, of course, did not stop Ron from partaking in the tempting treats.  Hermione was trying to be kind and remember that Ron had been just as upset for Harry’s sake, but really, how could he have forgotten the unwritten rule of the Weasley household: _never_ eat anything that might have been left out by Fred and George?

The latest Weasley Twin invention, the Ton-Tongue Toffee, had been a brilliant success.  “Well, I think Mrs. Weasley has finally hit on a shrinking charm that will work.  His tongue is only hanging down to his belly button now.”

“Poor Ron,” Harry said, trying not to smile at the image her words brought to his mind.  “What was he thinking, eating those sweets?”

“Well, to be fair, he was very concerned that you were so upset.  That must have distracted him.”  Hermione watched as Harry heaved a big sigh. Knowing him, he was now thinking that this, too, was all his fault.  She ransacked her mind quickly for something to divert him. “You should have heard Mrs. Weasley muttering all kinds of threats about what would happen to Fred and George when they got home.  I’m sure she was doing it to make Ron feel better so he’d calm down.”

“Well, it looks like I’ll be part of another conspiracy to get back at the twins,” Harry said ruefully.  “Thanks for checking up on him for me.”

Hermione looked at him knowingly.  “You mean, thanks for giving you time to mope out here on your own.”  When Harry opened his mouth to deny it, she interrupted, “Come on, Harry.  You are no more to blame for this happening than you are for Rinna’s blow-out about Sirius.” At the look on his face she continued, “I know, I know… you wrote that letter.  I’m sick of hearing about that miserable letter!”

Harry looked at her sourly.  “What are you doing out here, Hermione?” he asked pointedly.

“I’m trying to help you feel better!”

“Well, you’re doing a bang-up job of it so far!” he retorted sarcastically.  “You just don’t understand.”

Hermione took a deep breath and huffed her bangs off her forehead.  She hadn’t come out here to have a row with Harry.  She leaned back and said, “All right.  Help me understand.”

Harry was taken off guard.  “What?”

“Help me understand.  You know, talk to me.  Tell me what you are feeling.”

“T-tell you my feelings?”  Harry looked completely alarmed, as if Hermione had asked him to tickle a scorpion or something.  

“Yes,” she said, barely hanging on to her patience, “that’s what people __do__ when they communicate with each other.”

_When did Hermione get to be all touchy-feely, all “let’s talk this out,” all so, so, so…girly?_   Harry glanced at Hermione, sitting next to him, her face full of concern and her gorgeous brown eyes so troubled at his distress.  Actually, to be truthful, over the last week he’d begun to appreciate the more girly aspects of Hermione.  She’d grown a little taller, and she’d gotten a bit curvy, and soft looking, and her lips always seemed an inviting shade of pink.  And her eyes, warm like melted chocolate and wouldn’t it be nice to fall into warm, melty, chocolaty sweetness…

“Harry!”  

Hermione’s voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he hoped desperately that he’d not said any of that out loud.  “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Fine, if your eyes are going to glaze over like that every time I ask you to talk to me…” she began irritably.

“No, no,” he said, mind racing, “I, uh, was just trying to think of what to tell you first.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically.

Harry sighed.  He was no good at this.  “Actually, no.  I was just thinking about how pretty your eyes were.”  Harry heard Hermione’s surprised intake of breath and froze.  _Damn! I said that out loud, didn’t I?_  

Said eyes were gaping at him now, a bit wide and wild.  “You were what?” she asked weakly.  

Well, he’d put his foot into it; he might as well throw himself in completely.  “You have pretty eyes.  And I like it when you look at me all concerned like that.”

“Harry,” her voice was faint, “how did we get from talking about your feelings to talking about my eyes?”

“I dunno, but it sure is helping me feel better.”  He grinned at her, not knowing how it seemed to make her heart stop for a moment.  “Isn’t that what you wanted to accomplish?”

“Yes.  I mean, no.  Uh, I don’t know,” she said confusedly, desperately trying to gather her scattered wits.

Harry’s grin grew wider.  The sight of a completely flustered Hermione was a rare one.  He pressed the advantage and boldly took her hand, lacing his fingers between hers and placing them on his thigh.  “Well, it’s working,” he said with satisfaction.

As startled as Hermione was, she found she liked the feeling of his warm hand in hers, and she made no move to change the situation.  And so they sat, fingers intertwined, shoulders touching, hearts beating madly, the muffled sound of Mrs. Weasley shouting various shrinking charms drifting down from the upper level windows…

Eventually, Harry spoke.  “I am feeling badly that Rinna read all those rather uncomplimentary things Sirius wrote.  And that they had another row because of it.  At least I’m assuming they had a row.  She flooed through because he was there, and she was mad as a hornet…”  Hermione squeezed his hand to encourage him to continue.  “And I’m rather worried for Sirius because of it.”

Harry didn’t see Hermione roll her eyes.  “ _She_ should learn to control her temper better,” she opined.  

Harry shot her a look.  He was beginning to think that Hermione didn’t like his godmother very much.  She noticed his glance and the baffled expression. “Besides,” she continued sweetly, “Professor Lupin was there.  He’d have made sure she didn’t hex Sirius too badly.”

Harry’s glance turned to a look of exasperation.  “Thanks.  I thought you were trying to make me feel better.”

Hermione gave a mental sigh.  Trying to follow Harry’s moods was like riding a roller coaster in the dark; you never knew which way they would turn.  Attempting to salvage the romantic moment they’d just had, she shifted in the seat and turned her body to face him more.  “Maybe you should look into my eyes again,” she suggested.  Harry thought the proposition a brilliant one.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Sirius Black stared moodily into the fire, a scowl on his face.  He was unhappily reviewing the events of the afternoon.  Things had not gone according to plan.  He snorted.  _Not that you had a plan to begin with, you idiot.  You had no idea you would see her again so soon…_

He’d been convinced, when Rinna had emerged from the fireplace, eyes flashing and hands on her hips in fury, that Remus had been wrong.  _This_ was the girl he remembered; she hadn’t changed at all.

Of course, a phrase like “I came back because of you” should have melted the girl he remembered into a puddle of goo.  She had loved romantic talk like that.  

Sirius’ scowl deepened as he remembered what this new Rinna’s reaction had been…

\----- -----

Rinna shot up out of the chair and began pacing restlessly around the room.

“No, Sirius.  Do not say that to me,” she said with quiet intensity.  “You shouldn’t have come back here.  You are the most wanted wizard in England; if they catch you, they will have the Dementors perform the kiss.”  She shuddered.  “If that happened, and the reason you were here was because of me… it would break me.  I would not be able to bear it…” the last part came out a whisper as her face sunk into her hands.

When she composed herself, she looked up into Sirius’ stunned face.  “No,” she whispered.  “No,” this time louder.  “I will NOT accept responsibility for your foolish decision.  You are not going to lay that on me.”  

Sirius looked at her incredulously.  “Rinna, what did you think I would do once I learned you were here: stay away?” 

She returned to her agitated pacing. “Yes!  I expected you to want to stay as far away from me as possible.  I expected that you would never want to see me again.  I expected you to hate me for what I did!”

“I did hate you,” he said quietly, bringing her to an abrupt halt.  “At least, part of me did.  The rest of me spent the last thirteen years thinking about you, about what could have been.  I can’t just let go of that.”

She looked at him sadly.  “Sirius, I have spent the last thirteen years trying to get over you.  I’ve tried to stop thinking about you.”  She ran her hands through her hair, tugging at it fretfully.  “You can’t just ask me to suddenly change the way I think.”

“Why not?” he countered.  “You changed the way you thought about me once before, back at school.  You took a chance on us then.”

Her feet began moving again, not so much pacing as just little aimless movements as she wrung her hands nervously.  “You don’t know what you are asking of me.”  Her words were anxious and laced with trepidation.She looked for all the world like a rabbit trying to determine if it should freeze, or bolt.  

“Tell me,” he pleaded, standing up and reaching for her.  But he dropped his arm when she brought her wringing hands up to cross at her breastbone, just under her chin, as if warding her heart.  

“You are asking me to feel things again,” she spoke apprehensively, “To feel things for you.  I can’t.  It will hurt too much.”

She turned away, and strode toward the fireplace.  It occurred to Sirius that she was once again running away, and he moved to intercept her, taking her arm and spinning her around to face him.  “Rinna, please…”

Her eyes were desolate.  “Sirius, let me go.  I can’t do this.  Not right now.  If you open the floodgates, I will be swept away and drowned.”  He heard her voice quail.  “Please, Sirius.  If you even care for me a little, you will let me go.”

He immediately released her arm, but his eyes did not release her gaze. He probed deeply into her eyes, so familiar and green, and so haunted.  She was…hurting, frightened…damaged.  

She stared at him for a moment, startled and discomfited, before she gave a choking sob, and turned for the fireplace; in a flash of green flame, she was gone.  

\----- -----

Sirius was forced to acknowledge that it was naïve to think that so much time could go by and not have changed her.  Hell, he had certainly changed.  He had never been so introspective; back then if he had spent even two minutes in contemplation he would have considered himself on the level of Socrates.  But now, after an eternity in Azkaban where he had nothing to do but think… 

Suddenly he was struck by something he’d noticed in the recent encounter with Rinna, one thing that had not changed:  the repartee between Rinna and Remus.  Sirius felt comfort in finding something familiar, and yet, simultaneously, he felt a vague disquiet as he recalled their interaction.  Their banter had been typical of their exchanges back at school: witty, sharp, jibing, clever, acerbic… _and flirtatious,_ his mind whispered harshly.

Sirius closed his eyes and perceived the flickering of the flames through his eyelids.  He struggled to think rationally, suppressing the ugly monster of jealously that was trying to rear its menacing head.  Remus had told him there was no other man in Rinna’s life now.  Surely if there had been something going on between them, Remus wouldn’t have played it off as nothing…

Sirius head snapped up as he heard Remus’ voice from the couch.  Neither of them had changed positions since Rinna had left.

“How are you holding up, Padfoot?”  Remus sounded full of concern.

“You were right, Moony.  She has changed.”  He turned around and stalked back to the chair.  “You must know her pretty well,” he added pointedly, an edge to his voice.

Remus’ heart began to pound as he felt the anxiety of guilt press down on him.  _He suspects something!_   But the rational part of his mind admonished, _What are you feeling guilty for?  Your relationship with Rinna has simply been a deep friendship, and a small number of snogging sessions the last few weeks…_ His pulse slowed a bit with this realization, until a traitorous thought slipped in: _and an unrequited infatuation for the last twenty-some-odd years…_ He tamped that last thought down viciously.  There was no point in encouraging that line of thinking anymore, even if he knew that squelching such quisling feelings would never negate the fascination he felt for Rinna.

“Of course I know her well, Sirius.  All we had left was each other.  Her love and friendship has meant more to me than anything; she was my link to the past and she gave me a reason to look forward.  I probably know her better than anyone else, except maybe Tonks, although I think I know her better because of all our years of friendship.”  Remus put a slight emphasis on the last word.  

Sirius frowned.  Just because he recognized the truth to what Remus said, didn’t mean he had to like it.  In the past, no matter how much Remus and Rinna had carried on, Sirius had known that she would eventually turn to **him** and flirt with him outrageously, or kiss him, or, even better after they’d left school, go home with him to the tiny bedroom in the flat he had shared with James.  Perhaps that was why the way she had interacted with Remus had never incited him to jealousy before.

Remus continued, “I still catch glimpses of the girl we used to know; it’s not that she has changed completely.  But I think our Rinna has become overburdened with guilt.  She blamed herself for your apparent defection to the Dark Lord, and a mere couple of months of knowing the truth can’t yet negate what she’s told herself for so many years.  And, of course, now she feels guilty for ever thinking you could have done what you are accused of.”

Something clicked into place in Sirius’ brain.  “She doesn’t expect that I would forgive her…” _for breaking our engagement, for shattering my heart, for doubting my loyalty._   If he was honest with himself, part of him did not want to forgive her.  His anger with her, even hatred, had been such a part of him and a key to his survival… and yet, deep in his heart, he knew he wanted a second chance with her, and he wanted to forgive and forget the pain and regrets.

“No, she doesn’t,” Remus confirmed.

Sirius felt almost panicked, and he sprung from the chair in agitation.  “I need to show her she’s wrong.  I need to…”  He turned to Remus, desperation on his face.  “I need her…”

Remus sat in silent contemplation for a few moments.  _Her heart was never yours,_ he reminded himself.  He got up and walked over to Sirius, clapping his hand on Sirius’ shoulder.  “She still loves you, Padfoot.  I know it.  You heard what she said: she _tried_ to stop thinking about you, but she couldn’t.  In all these years, she has not gotten over you.”

There was a flicker of hope in Sirius’ troubled eyes.  “Why are you telling me this, Remus?”

Remus sighed, and Sirius was surprised to see a pained expression cross his face.  “Sirius, literally overnight, I lost everyone I loved.  Rinna was the only one I got back… until now.  I love you.  I love her.  I want to see you both happy.”  It _was_ the truth, and Remus was almost able to convince himself that he didn’t feel the little spasm of pain grip his heart when he said it.

Sirius was moved by what his oldest friend had said.  Remus had always known how to soothe even his most tumultuous moods… especially back at school, when the fledgling relationship between him and Rinna had caused him much anxiety and insecurity.  He gripped Remus’ forearm and asked earnestly, “You don’t think it’s too late?  That we have both changed too much for it to work?”  

_It’s funny,_ thought Remus, _that despite all we have been through, the dynamic between the three of us has stayed the same._   “Some things will never change, Sirius, no matter how much time has passed.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Sitting alone in the darkened living room of her flat that had been recently vacated by a werewolf and an outlaw, Nymphadora Tonks was feeling a bit…meddlesome.  It wasn’t often that she felt the need to interfere in her friends’ lives, but when her two dear friends _and_ her favorite cousin were involved, well…that was a different matter entirely.  

Remus and Sirius had related what had happened that afternoon a short while before Tonks had arrived home from work with dinner in hand.  Yesterday, Tonks had felt sympathy for Rinna; after all, the poor thing had been taken by surprise at Sirius’ arrival at the Weasleys, but today…today, Tonks was feeling a bit frustrated with her former flatmate.  Quite a bit frustrated, in fact, and more than a bit concerned.  

Apparently, Rinna had provoked a confrontation with Sirius, had heard the man declare that she was the reason he had returned to England (thus answering the forgiveness question in Tonks’ opinion), and then ran like hell.  This was not like her at all.  And Tonks had a feeling she knew why.  So, she was going to meddle.  _Why is it that matters of the heart are so messy?_

A bubble-gum-pink haired head poked into Rinna’s fireplace.  It was getting late, but she knew Rinna wouldn’t have left for work yet.  “Dunnie?  You there?”  

Rinna stepped into the living room.  “Oh Merlin.  Your cousin has sent you here to torment me for being such a jackass, hasn’t he?”

Tonks climbed into the room, pointedly ignoring Rinna’s outburst.  “You know, it’s very convenient, having you connected to the floo network now.  Why didn’t you do this sooner?”  She flicked some soot off her jeans.  “And my cousin is no longer at my flat.”

“What?  He’s gone?”

Tonks walked into the kitchen, Rinna at her heels, and reached for the teakettle.  She continued conversationally, “Sirius and Remus told me of your rather abrupt visit to my flat today.  I’m sure I got the abridged version, but I heard enough to gather what had happened…”  Rinna groaned and put her face in her hands.  “And yes, you were a bit of a jackass.  I’ve never known you to lose your cool like that!”

“I haven’t been myself lately,” Rinna said weakly.

Tonks looked at her with a mixture of pity and exasperation.  “That’s because you are not being honest with yourself.”  She pulled some teabags from the cupboard, accidentally knocking down a tin of crackers.  “And you’ve been keeping things from me, haven’t you?”

Rinna was struck by how much Tonks reminded her of Molly Weasley at the moment.  “Keeping things?” she asked lamely as she tucked the crackers she had deftly caught back up on the cupboard shelf.

Tonks set the teapot on the table.  “I came home with Chinese take away, which the two of them wolfed down.”  She looked slyly at Rinna who had sat at the table and was looking rather on edge.  “Or should I say they ate _doggedly_?”

Rinna was startled.  “What?”

“Sirius used his dog form to enter and leave my flat.  Why didn’t you tell me he was an Animagus?” 

“It’s not supposed to be common knowledge, Dorrie.  That’s why I kept it from y…”

“Actually,” Tonks interrupted, “I was referring to your relationship with Remus.”  She poured the hot water carefully while Rinna paled and gaped at her.

“How… how did you…how did…”

“How did I know about that?  Honestly, doesn’t anyone remember that I am a fully trained Auror, skilled in piecing together evidence?”  Tonks exclaimed huffily.  “I’ve observed the two of you over the years, how you behave around each other, and…I skillfully extracted a confession from your Professor last night,” she ended with satisfaction. A flush of anger began to creep up Rinna’s neck, but Tonks was undeterred.  “Is that what is keeping you running away from Sirius?  This fling you are having with Remus?”

“It is NOT a fling!” Rinna said hotly.  “We just kissed a few times.  And it could probably be something more, but Sirius came crashing back into the picture and now I don’t know what to feel…”

“Bollocks!”  Tonks fired back sharply.  “You know how you feel; you just refuse to be honest with yourself, because if you admit that you are still in love with Sirius, it means you will have to start processing through stuff that you have put off dealing with all these years!”

Rinna looked at her friend with wide eyes, completely staggered.

“Come ON, Rinna!  This is the love of your life we are talking about!  The man you were going to marry!  The man you were willing to give up everything for in order to save him… The man who came back here to see you again, despite how dangerous it is for him.  The man who wants a second chance with you…”

“How do you know that’s what he wants?” Rinna whispered.

Tonks threw up her hands in exasperation.  “Hello!  Auror here, remember?  I have taken what Sirius has said to me and Remus, what he’s said to you the past two days, combined it with what you’ve told me about your past, and voila!  Deductive reasoning!  You should try it sometime.”

Even though she had spent several hours in heated debate between her heart and her brain over these very same things, it was hearing Tonks say everything out loud that finally brought her heart and mind into agreement.  Rinna closed her eyes, a single tear making its track down her cheek.  “You’re right, Dorrie.  I’ve never stopped loving him.”  She felt Tonks grab her hand and squeeze it, and looked at her friend.  “But what about Remus?  I care about him, too.  I don’t want to hurt him…”

“Oh, Dunnie.  Remus will be fine.  He already knows you still love Sirius, you know.”  At Rinna’s surprised look, she added, “He told me.”  She paused.  “I think you two have always had a little crush on each other, haven’t you?  All through school, and even now?”

Rinna groaned and leaned forward to smack her forehead on the table.  “Can’t I have both of them?” she asked in a small voice.

Tonks let out a snort of laughter.  “Well, that would make you a greedy little bint, now wouldn’t it?  Or are you into some weird kinky stuff I don’t know about?”

Rinna lifted her head slightly and looked up at Tonks.  “Please.  I’m messed up enough as it is, don’t you think?”

“What I think is, you need to figure out what you want.  That way, the next time you see Sirius Black, you are prepared.”  Tonks poured some tea and pushed the cup toward Rinna, accidentally with a little too much force.   

Rinna nimbly caught the cup just as it slid off the edge of the table, and, without missing a beat, she poured the contents that had sloshed out into the saucer back into the cup and sipped it.  

“Nice save,” Tonks noted.

“Thanks.  I’ve had a bit of practice,” Rinna replied with a smirk.  Tonks made a face at her.  Rinna held her cup up in a salute to her friend before sipping again.  “But Dorrie, didn’t you say Sirius left?  Where did he go?”

Tonks shrugged. “I don’t know.  He told me that you mentioned his name as you flooed the flat,” she paused as Rinna brought her palm to her forehead, “and he didn’t want to put me in a compromising position.  Personally, I think he’s overreacting a bit, but I suppose being a little paranoid is what’s kept him from being caught so far.”

Rinna nodded.  “Is Remus still at your flat, then?” She was surprised at the twinge of jealousy she felt licking at her heart.

“Oh please! Remus Lupin is too much of a gentleman to ruin the reputation of an unmarried woman by spending the night at her flat.”  But Tonks couldn’t resist the dig. “Unless, of course, he is completely squiffy.  Then he’d be willing to spend the night in her bed…”  She gave Rinna a sly look.

“Stupid, nosy Aurors: never happy till you have every sordid detail. I hate you, did you know?”  Rinna glared at her. 

“No you don’t, Dunnie,” Tonks countered cheerfully as she stood up to take the teakettle back to the stove.  “You love me, and you don’t know what you’d do with out me.”

Rinna stood up as well.  “Too bloody right.”  The two women embraced.  “Merlin, Dorrie, I’m glad I have such a pain-in-the-arse friend like you to keep me grounded.”

Tonks gave her one last squeeze and pulled away.  “Are you going to be all right now?”

Rinna cocked her head in thought. “I’m not sure.  But I haven’t ended up in the madhouse yet, so that’s a good sign, don’t you think?”

Tonks snorted, and glanced at the clock. “And if we want to keep you out of the poorhouse, you should scamper off to work, I think.”

“Damn!”  Rinna gave her a quick continental kiss.  “I’ve got to fly, Dorrie.  Thanks for the tea, and for the figurative smacking upside the head.”

“That’s what I’m here for, luv.”  Tonks turned and made her way to the living room.  

Rinna’s head jerked up at the sound of something breaking into tiny pieces.  “I can fix that!” she heard Tonks call from the living room.  Rinna looked down and shook her head with a sigh as she heard a mumbled “ _reparo_ ” followed by the whoosh of the fireplace.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The sound of rapping at the window assaulted Rinna’s ears, and with a moan, she dragged herself from the depths of sleep and opened one eye.  The clock told her it was 11:00 am.  The curtains were closed, but the sound was unmistakable; someone had sent her an owl.  Too tired to even grumble, she stumbled to release the window latch.  The owl flew in and settled on the dresser, offering its letter to her.  She mumbled to the owl to wait for her reply.

_My dear Arinna,_

_I was very pleased to receive your letter and your curriculum vitae.  While I remember your excellence at mixing drinks (and that still was the best martini I have had by far), I would agree that your myriad of talents could be put to better use in other venues.  I believe I have a proposal that you will find most interesting.  I would like to meet with you five days hence, at your home, if that is convenient?_

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_PS:  You wouldn’t happen to have any more of that Irish beer, now would you?_

Rinna was wide awake now.  A proposal?  Her heart raced in anticipation.  What could he have in mind?  She quickly dashed off a reply and sent the owl on its way.  Then she reread the letter, and sighed.  She would have to procure some more Guinness.  

She sat in the armchair and explored all the possibilities of what Dumbledore could have in mind, turning his words over and over in her head.  At some point she must have drifted off back to sleep, because she found herself waking to another rapping at her window.

Annoyed by the crick in her neck, she opened the window yet again and was perplexed to see a different owl.  It flew in and also landed on her dresser.  She was startled to see that it had a rose in its mouth, and she took the rose with trembling fingers.  It was a “fire and ice” rose, its soft petals white on the outside and deep crimson on the inside.  She automatically brought it to her nose as she became lost in a memory...

\----- -----

The four Marauders sat down at the library table where Rinna was working on her Ancient Runes assignment.  She was expecting a group of third years she’d been tutoring, so she was surprised to see them when she looked up.  “Need some help with your schoolwork, gentlemen?” she grinned saucily at them.

James smiled easily at her, running his fingers through his hair and pouring on the charm.  “No, Dunlevy, blokes as brilliant as us don’t need to trifle with schoolwork.”  Rinna snorted, and rolled her eyes at them.  

Sirius leaned forward conspiratorially, and spoke in a low voice, “We just want to thank you for getting us out of that tight spot the other night…”

“You lads were cutting it awfully close, don’t you think?” she frowned at them, eyeing Remus.  “What if you hadn’t made it to the Shack in time?”

“Well the point is: we did.  Thanks to you.” Sirius replied.  

“And we were wondering,” added James, with a sly look at Sirius, “hypothetically, of course, if someone wanted to get you something nice, say flowers or candy, you know, as a ‘thank you’ gift, well… what should he get you?”

Rinna leaned back in her chair, shifting her gaze from one to the other.  They all managed to radiate a look of innocence.  Her eyes narrowed.  “Why would I reveal that kind of information to you four, of all people?” 

“It is strictly for research purposes,” Sirius assured her, and at her skeptical expression, he added ingenuously, “You don’t think we’d try to use this knowledge against you, do you, Dunlevy?”  

Rinna gave another rather unladylike snort.  “I can’t imagine why I would ever think that, Black!” she retorted sarcastically, but grinned at him cheekily to take the sting out of her jibe.  “Besides, you don’t need to give me a gift for helping you out, you know.  I did it because it was the decent thing to do.”  She smiled at Remus.

James smacked his hand lightly on the table.  “Pay attention, Dunlevy!  I said it was a _hypothetical_ situation.”

“Come on, Rinna, you know we will wheedle the information from you eventually; you might as well give it up now,” cajoled Remus.  “Or… we could wait here, and obstruct the flow of higher learning…”  He cocked his head toward the three third year Ravenclaws who had arrived for their tutoring session.

She arched an eyebrow at Remus.  “You are all insufferable gits.  I just want that stated for the record.”

“Duly noted,” quipped James, his eyes sparkling playfully.  “Now, are you going to comply with our simple request?”

She rolled her eyes again.  “Since when has anything to do with you Marauders ever been simple?”  She paused to sigh in a long-suffering manner.  “All right then.  Hypothetically, my favorite candy is dark chocolate, and my favorite flower is the ‘fire and ice’ rose.” At their puzzled expressions she added, “You know, the ones that are white on the outside but red on the inside.”  

The boys stood up, having accomplished their mission, and all flashed Rinna what she had labeled “the trademark Marauder smile” before turning to leave.  “Wait!” Rinna called before they’d gone far.  Four pairs of eyes regarded her with surprise.

Rinna eyed James, a small smirk on her face.  “Here’s some more information for your so-called ‘research.’  My friend Lily likes pink roses and milk chocolate with almonds.”  James’ face split into a huge grin as he beamed at her like she had just fluttered down from heaven. 

As Rinna’s eyes followed them out of the library, Sirius tossed a glance back at her.  She raised her eyebrows inquiringly.  He winked and his lips quirked his best Lothario smile at her before he sauntered off after his mates.  If she was blushing furiously, the third year students waiting patiently for her attention made no comment of it.

\----- -----

Rinna tapped the rose against her lips and smiled as she recalled that the morning after the next Hogsmeade weekend, she had received by owl post two things: one had been a half-kilogram tin of Honeydukes Finest Dark Chocolates with a small card that read “Hypothetically from your Marauders-- thanks for saving our arses” and the other had been a single “fire and ice” rose, carried in the owl’s beak.  No note had accompanied it, but a certain blue-eyed Marauder had watched very intently as she had brought it to her nose…

Rinna continued to smile as a funny feeling that had nothing to do with the need for breakfast tickled at her stomach.  She inhaled the scent of the rose again, and a trickle of hope began to wash over her.  _Maybe you should rethink your belief that second chances are a myth, Rinna girl…_ her heart whispered.  

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

**Author Note:  Whew!  First of all, I just want to thank all of you who have reviewed my story so far.  I just LOVE to hear from you!  And I especially appreciate my loyal reviewers who come back again and again to give me feedback.  A big sloppy kiss for all of you:  MWAP!**

**If you keep the love coming, folks, wow, I would be in, like, fan fiction author heaven!  So, help a girl out and leave a review for chapter 12, or any chapter for that matter, won’t you?  Thanks!**


	13. Opportunities

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 13: Opportunities**

**Disclaimer:  Sadly, I do not own any of JK Rowling’s characters or any portion of the Harry Potter universe.  Which is really too bad, as I just love to frolic in that world and play with her wonderful characters!  Speaking of which, any characters, places, situations or whatnot that you don’t find in her fabulous books, well they are mine.  And I don’t own Guinness.  Don’t even really like the nasty stuff…but some of my friends do, so it’s been included for them.**

**Author note: One of these days I will need to include some Dr. Pepper or some Three Buck Chuck in honor of my fabulous beta, Lorett… (sits and contemplates how to work those into the story) but in the meantime, I’ll just say that she is the best ever!  I love you, dear!  MWAP!**

________________________________________________________________________________

A small glow in the living room caught Molly Weasley’s eye as she was turning off all the lights.  Harry was there, curled up on the couch, brooding over the picture album again.  Molly sighed; she’d thought she was the last one to bed.  “All right, Harry?  Couldn’t you sleep?”  She went to sit next to him.

Harry shook his head.  “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

“Oh, you’re hardly doing that!”  Molly smiled.  “Now, setting off confetti bombs in the hallway, or filching cookies from the kitchen, or playing that game you and Hermione taught everyone today with the brooms here in the living room in your stocking feet…”

“Broom Hockey,” Harry supplied helpfully, an apologetic look on his face.

“Ah, yes, ‘Broom Hockey.’  Playing Broom Hockey and breaking the picture glass in the portrait of Otto Percival Weasley… now those are things that disturb me.  Not quietly laying about and moping,” Molly informed him.

“I’m not…” Harry began in protest, but suddenly didn’t have the heart to continue.  

Molly looked at him kindly.  “Do you want to talk about it, luv?”  

For years, Harry had dreamed of having a motherly person in his life who would say things to him just like that, in just that same tone of voice, who, just as he sensed Mrs. Weasley was willing to do, would take him in her protective loving arms and comfort him.  He would have been embarrassed to admit it to anyone, even this kind woman who was that mother-figure to him.  And there was the rub: even though he appreciated the maternal concern and kindness that Mrs. Weasley had unconditionally given him, he found himself inexplicably wishing that it was the red-headed woman in the pictures on his lap that was offering it to him.  Which made absolutely no sense whatsoever, since the primary feeling he had toward Rinna lately was one of being rather hacked off at her.

Harry shrugged.  “Not really,” he said.

Molly heaved a sigh.  “All right.  But if you change your mind…”  She gently ruffled his hair as she stood up from the couch.

“Thanks,” he said sincerely, not minding the touch very much at all.

____________________________________________________________________________________

The next afternoon found Harry sitting, his back against the big tree, with the photo album once again on his lap.  That morning, after finding him asleep on the couch with it, Ginny had told him outright that he was getting unnervingly attached to it.  Hermione and Ron didn’t say it out loud, but he suspected they thought along the same lines as Ginny.  But it really was helping him feel closer to his mum and dad, even if more often than not, he found himself drifting into the section of pictures that were almost exclusively of Rinna and Sirius, wishing that things were different.

A movement in the woods beyond the yard caught his eye: a dark shape, darting among the bushes.  Harry closed the scrapbook with a snap, his heart thudding suddenly in his chest, and he moved to the side gate.  He stepped into the woods and called softly, “Snuffles?”  

He was answered by a low yip, and a shaggy black head came into view from under a bush, tongue lolling in a doggy grin.  Harry stepped around the bush and smiled as Snuffles pounced forward onto his front paws in a playful gesture before turning and romping deeper into the woods.  When Harry did not follow quickly enough, the large black dog repeated the action with a sharp yap, and spun around again, looking over his shoulder to see if Harry was moving.

“All right,” Harry laughed, “I’m coming, but we can’t go too far…”  The dog stopped when they were out of eyesight, but not earshot, of the house, and sat with his tail thumping happily as he waited for Harry to catch up.  Harry approached him, wondering how he could have ever found this huge black pooch menacing or intimidating.  He had to suppress the urge to grab up a stick and throw it with a “Fetch, boy!”

The next instant, Snuffles had changed into Sirius and Harry found himself in an embrace, being thumped heartily on his back.  Harry stepped back and grinned.  “Sirius, you look a lot better!” he noted.

“Well, I’ve had a few meals and some decent rest.  It makes a big difference.”  The two of them found an old log to sit on.

Harry looked him up and down.  “Are you okay?”

“Absolutely,” Sirius answered with a puzzled look.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, well, it’s just that…”  Harry paused, a little embarrassed, “the other day, Rinna sounded like she was ready to hex you into oblivion…”

“Ah, that.”  Sirius looked thoughtful.  “I didn’t realize you were there for that.”  He sighed.  “Well, you’ve certainly had the chance to see the two of us at our best, haven’t you?” he asked dryly.  Harry shrugged.  “No, there was no hexing involved, I’m happy to say.”

“What is her problem, anyway?” Harry asked petulantly.

Sirius studied Harry for a moment, weighing what the appropriate answer should be.  He came up with, “It’s complicated, Harry.”

“That’s exactly what she said about you,” was his disgruntled reply.  

Sirius chuckled ruefully.  “That pretty much accurately sums us up, I think: complicated.”

“Then why were you ever together?” Harry wondered.

Sirius pensively considered Harry’s question.  “There is no logical explanation I can give you,” he said at last.  “There were a lot of factors that should have _kept_ us from ever getting together… not the least of which was that when we met, we didn’t like each other much at all…”  Harry thought about what Rinna had told him about moving up into the next Year’s Potions class and pictured what Sirius’ reaction to her might have been.

“But,” Sirius continued, “in spite of our differences, we slowly discovered we were more alike than we realized.”  He saw the question in Harry’s eyes.  “For one thing, we both came from old wizarding families—“

“Pure-bloods,” Harry said flatly.

Sirius gave him an inscrutable look.  “Yes, Pure-bloods, although the Dunlevy name wasn’t nearly so well-known as mine.  Still, she understood the pressure there is to live up to expectations.”  He sighed.  “We both had abusive fathers.”  Harry’s head jerked up at that.  “Actually, her father was a monster.”  Sirius’ mouth had formed a thin, hard line.  “Fortunately her mother had left him, and married a decent sort of man… My parents disowned me because I was a disappointment to them.  I didn’t embrace the values of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black…”  Sirius ran his hand through his hair.  “I had my friends, and they loved me and supported me, but she was the only one who really understood the pain I was feeling,” he said softly as he glanced up at Harry.  “That was her gift: empathy mixed with compassion.  She seemed to instinctively be able to pick out the students who were hurting, or struggling, and she helped them. It didn’t matter what House they were from or what their bloodlines were.  That’s what she became known for.”

Now _that_ was the kind of person Harry could see his mum having as a friend, not the heart-breaking, high-tempered woman he was angry with.  “So why did she change?” he asked.

“Change?” Sirius was startled; Harry really didn’t know her, so how could he be that perceptive?  “What do you mean, change?”

“Of course she changed, Sirius!”  Harry countered with some heat.  “She wasn’t being compassionate when she broke your heart, was she?  Or when she abandoned me to the Dursleys!”  His green eyes snapped with hurt and anger.

Sirius stared at his godson with dawning realization.  Harry was a lost soul as well, deeply damaged, just like him, just like Rinna… he didn’t know his godson well, but he should have recognized… should have understood… He reached out and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  Harry flinched, but then leaned into the touch.

Sirius was filled with sudden clarifying rage; not at Rinna but at the source of all this hurt and pain.  Voldemort.  The bastard who had taken so much from him, so much from Rinna and so much from Harry… Sirius let his heart fill with hatred, a hatred so intense that it burned away any remaining anger and resentment he felt toward Rinna.  And then, he let the purifying fire die out, till there was only an ember flickering as a reminder of what he was fighting for.  He took a deep breath and felt, somehow, lighter, and much more optimistic than he had since he first read Harry’s note about Rinna.

Sirius took a deep breath and said in a gentle voice, “Don’t be too hard on your godmother, Harry.  After all, the two of you have many things in common.”

“Right,” said Harry, a hint of bitterness in his voice, “like what?”

“Well, she loves to fly, you love to fly.  You are both mad about Quidditch…”  

Harry nodded at this, remembering the night on her broom, and the game at his party.  He’d recognized they had shared that, and he had liked the feeling of being a little closer to his godmother that knowledge had brought.  

What Sirius quietly said next nearly knocked Harry off his seat in surprise.  “Her parents, that is her mother and step-father, were murdered… just like yours…”

Harry felt his heart stop for a moment.  “Murdered?” he whispered.

“She understands what it is like to be violently orphaned, Harry.  She, out of anybody, can appreciate what you have been through…”

Harry contemplated this for a while, a thousand questions warring inside him, before he finally stored this new information away for further dissection later.  He finally looked at Sirius, gazed into his haunted eyes, and asked gravely, “Do you still love her?”

Never letting his gaze waver from Harry’s intense green eyes, he answered, “I believe I do.”

“How do you know?” Harry’s voice held no rancor, only curiosity.

“Well, that’s simple—“

“Simple?” Harry demanded, “I thought you said it was complicated!”

Sirius huffed, slightly exasperated, “Well it is!  Simple _and_ complicated.”  He rolled his eyes at Harry’s frown of confusion.  “I don’t know how to explain it!  I just know that we were meant to be together, that’s all!”  

“Okay,” said Harry, as if that had made perfect sense.  

Sirius stared at him.  If it _had_ , Sirius wished Harry would explain it to _him_.

At Sirius’ answer, Harry had felt a little jolt of hope in his heart, and he immediately thought of his favorite picture of Sirius and Rinna from the album that he’d left by the tree.  _Must remember to retrieve that…_ It was the one of the two of them on Sirius’ motorcycle; Rinna sat snuggled up against Sirius’ back with her arms wrapped around him, looking mischievous as she whispered something into his ear, and Sirius turned back with a wicked grin before jumping off the motorcycle, pulling her to him and kissing her full on the mouth.  Hermione and Ginny had sighed at that one.  Harry liked it because of the happy smiles on their faces after they had kissed.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Harry asked.

“What?”  Taken aback, Sirius studied his godson keenly.  Was there a hint of impudence in that smirk of his?  How he looked so much like James!  “Do about what?”

“Rinna,” Harry explained like he was talking to a five-year-old, “we are talking about Rinna.  I’ve already agreed to stop being so hard on her—“

“Actually, you didn’t,” Sirius pointed out.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Okay, I _now_ agree to stop being so hard on her… So what are _you_ going to do about her?”  

Sirius didn’t know how Remus had done it, he really didn’t; handling the quixotic changes of mood of teenagers.  _Merlin,_ Sirius thought, _I would never have been able to be a teacher._ For one thing, he felt himself reverting to his arrogant, pugnacious, teenaged self at the challenge in Harry’s tone that sounded uncannily like James.  “I’ll have you know, that I already have a plan, and it is going quite well, thank you very much.”  

Suddenly, Sirius was struck by inspiration.  There had been a particular rosebush in Molly’s garden that Rinna had loved the color of… “I say, Harry.  Maybe you could help me out with something…”

Fortunately, later that evening, no one noticed that one of Molly’s bushes had been plundered, or that Hedwig was missing…

_________________________________________________________________________________

Albus Dumbledore climbed the two short steps to the stoop of Rinna’s house and glanced down as he rang the bell.  What he saw made him smile.

“Headmaster,” Rinna greeted him, “Do come in.  Please, make yourself...”  Her voice dwindled to a stop when she saw that he was holding something in his hand.  “What is that?”

“I’m wondering the same,” he smiled as he held it out to her.  “I found it on your doorstep.”  She took it and blushed heartily.  “Perhaps you have a secret admirer?”

Rinna brought to her nose a rose that was the pinkish-orangey hue of sunset mixed with peachy-yellows.  It was an exquisite specimen, and it smelled lovely, and it reminded her of… her eyes snapped open when she heard her guest chuckle.  “Sorry,” she said, “I’ll, uh, I’ll just put this in some water and bring in some refreshments.  Please, take a seat,” she gestured into the living room, and then turned to Dumbledore with a hint of a smirk in her smile and a cheeky look in her eyes.  “Would you like some tea, Albus?” she asked sweetly.

“There is no need for impertinence, Arinna.  You know perfectly well what kind of repast I am hoping for, young lady!” he called to her as she entered the kitchen.  Her laughter trickled out from the kitchen door. 

When she emerged a few minutes later, carrying a tray that she set on the coffee table, Dumbledore said, ”Well, Arinna, I am glad that our good Professor Lupin suggested you contact me.  You have provided me a solution to a small dilemma I have.  I wonder if this might be to your liking, for I think it affords an excellent resolution for us both.”  

Rinna looked at him in interest as she passed him a bottle of his favorite beer.  Dumbledore took an appreciative sip before continuing, “As you are aware, I have had a vacancy in the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, and it has recently been filled; I hired Alastor Moody.  There are many reasons, not the least of which being that Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year.”  Rinna made an exclamation of surprise.  “But our good Moody is a man with many demands on his time and not as much vigor as he used to have, and had agreed to the job only on the contingency that we hire an assistant DADA professor to help.  I believe that you would fit the newly created position of Associate Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor beautifully.”

Rinna eyed him with suspicion.  “How convenient, Headmaster, that this position opened just as I was determining to change employment and make use of my studies of the Dark Arts…”

Dumbledore’s face was guileless.  “Yes, rather convenient indeed.  You wish to have a job in which your talents would be put to better use and appreciated.  I have need for additional help this year.”  

Rinna sighed.  “Let’s be honest with each other, Albus.  You would much rather have me where you can keep an eye on me.  Don’t think I don’t know the reason you fixed me up with Tonks; to have an Auror-in-training and another of your protégés watching out for me, or watching me.”  She looked at him without malice. “Not that I blame you, really.  I came back here a loose cannon, and I suppose I could be still considered one…”

Dumbledore gave her a measured look.  “Since we are being honest, Arinna… Yes, I was very concerned for you when you returned to England and I felt it best to keep you connected to our world in spite of your wishes.  I did want to keep an eye on you, as you put it.”  He reached forward and placed his hand on her forearm.  “I hope you understand I have always tried to keep your best interests at heart.  I have known you for far too long to not care for you considerably.  

“But I must admit,” he went on, “that I have taken advantage of your talents and gifts in the past (and don’t think I don’t know how you resented me persuading you to play spy), and I am hoping to do so again.”

Rinna blinked at this.  _The old fox is being quite open about his intentions for a change…or is he?_

Dumbledore produced a satchel, and took out a worn periodical, a back issue of _The Journal of_ _Advances in Potions_ , opened it, and slid it over to Rinna.  He tapped the title of the article: _Theoretical Use of Preservative Potions in Counteracting Dark Curses_ and said, “The article, and the research behind it, was brilliant, my dear.”

Rinna looked at him, flabbergasted.  “You _do_ know that after the article was published, I was lambasted for using unorthodox methods, and for printing, how was it put? Ah, ‘wishful thinking and complete clap-trap!’  I was advised to change the topic of my dissertation, and was cut off from any additional funding.”

Dumbledore stroked his beard.  “Time and again, the majority of academicians have been unable to appreciate brilliance presented to them, even when their noses are rubbed in it.”  He chuckled.  “Fortunately, I am not so afflicted with that type of nearsightedness.”  There was a calculating glint in his eyes.  “I confess that I want your considerable talents at my disposal.  And I hope to sweeten the proposal by telling you I want to fund your additional research into this fascinating topic.”

“You want to fund…” Rinna said weakly.

“Certainly my reasons should be obvious; if you could find an efficacious combination, it would serve our cause well.”

Rinna considered this in silence for a moment.  “So you don’t intend for me to be teaching, then?” she asked, unable to completely hide her disappointment at this.

He smiled at her.  “On the contrary!  You will be teaching.  After all, the Board of Governors will believe that is what I wish to hire you for.  I really have no intention of revealing my ulterior motive for having you at Hogwarts to them.  And moreover, did I not say that I intended to take advantage of _many_ of your talents?”

Rinna stood up and paced around the living room, deep in thought.  Dumbledore leaned back and pulled on the bottle in his hand, watching her sharply.  Finally, she turned to him, a picture of seriousness, and said, “Albus, how can you be sure I serve your cause?  Or, more accurately, that I will continue to serve your cause?”

Rinna had spent a good deal of time that week mulling over her recent embarrassing behavior and had come to realize that she would not have reacted to Sirius’ letter to Harry so strongly had the accusations not held the potential for truth.  “After all,” she continued, pointing at her curriculum vitae laying on the coffee table, “you have in front of you a recipe for a powerful Dark Arts practitioner.”  She paused, then said softly, “You know why I came back… I was very nearly consumed by it all.  How do you know that won’t happen again?”

Dumbledore looked at her artfully.  “Because I believe that now you have something that you lacked a few years ago.”  

“What is that?” she wondered.  

“An anchor for your heart,” he replied.  “Two anchors, really.  Or you would have them, if you would stop allowing the circumstances of the past to hinder your joy for today.”  

“You’re talking about…”

“Harry and Sirius, yes.”  Dumbledore patted the couch next to him, and she sat without thinking.  “Love, my dear Arinna.  Love is the one thing that will hold back the darkness, be it the darkness in this world, or the darkness in one’s soul.  I have seen you, over the years, overcome the shadows within you through the love of your friends.  It wasn’t until you left and isolated yourself from those who love you that you began to feel the draw of the Dark.”  

_It’s true.  Oh Merlin, it all makes sense._  She had certainly mucked it up, hadn’t she, leaving like she did.   Rinna was suddenly irritated that Dumbledore hadn’t told her this thirteen years sooner.  Ruefully, she realized that he had tried, but she had been hell-bent on departing and pursuing her course, and had not heard.  She put her head in her hands and let out a little groan.

 

Dumbledore let out a long sigh.  “I’m afraid I must apologize to you, Arinna, for I fear I did you a disservice helping you subdue your memories when you were young.”  She looked at him in surprise, but before she could say anything, he continued, “Yes, I know they were horrific, and quite honestly, I do not know what else could have been done.  It was clear you needed some way to cope, or you would not have been able to concentrate on your studies, and I refused to see a student with such potential not have it realized…But I fear that my example taught you a less than adequate way to handle adversity.”

“I’m not sure I understand…” she said in a small voice.

“I taught you that the best way to deal with painful memories was to suppress them, tamp them down, hide them away.  Now you are paying for that lesson, are you not?”  He placed his hand on her shoulder.  “Had you learned to, ah now, what is the Muggle term for it? Ah yes, ‘process your feelings,’ I daresay you would not be so conflicted over the recent return of one Sirius Black.”

Rinna felt as if she’d been struck utterly dumb; she would not have been able to speak had she tried, so rattled was she by what had been said.  Dumbledore added, “I had hoped that meeting Harry again would help you sort through some of your painful past and give you a reason to let go of some of the responsibility you have so needlessly heaped on yourself.”

“What… what do you mean?” 

His blue eyes pierced to her heart.  “Let go of the guilt, my dear.  There is no need to hold on to it anymore, and it does you harm if you continue to do so.”  He removed his hand from her shoulder after giving it a gentle squeeze.    

Rinna sat in complete stillness for a while.  “You have given me a lot to think about,” she commented softly.  “All my life, you have been challenging me, haven’t you?  Pushing me to do my best. Guiding me in the way I should go.”

“And now I have offered you another challenge.”  He took the documents from the coffee table and rolled them up neatly.  “So what say you to my offer?  Shall I submit this along with your application,” and a new parchment suddenly appeared on the table, with a quill and inkwell ready, “to the Board of Governors?  It is not a given, but I tend to get what I want when it comes to the staff at Hogwarts.”

She seized the quill and filled out the application. “Why not?  I’ve not been one to refuse you very often, you know.”

His eyes twinkled as he replied, “Oh, I don’t know about that.  You certainly refused to comply with my request to refrain from passionate snogging sessions in broom closets with a certain Marauder, as I recall.”

She looked at him sourly.  “I do hope that you do not punctuate staff meetings with embarrassing anecdotes such as that one, because it is not too late for me to tear this up, you know.”

Dumbledore hastily snatched the parchment from her hands and added it to the roll.  “Certainly not.  Well… at least not until mid-term…” he added with a wily chuckle.

Rinna snorted.  “Besides,” she added, “you know that McGonagall completely over-reacted to that incident.”  Dumbledore raised his eyebrow at her.  “To all those incidents, really.”  Dumbledore wisely said no more, and finished his Guinness.  

__________________________________________________________________________________

Remus Lupin stood on Rinna’s doorstep, finger poised at the doorbell, his heart drumming nervously in his chest.  It was ridiculous, really, to be apprehensive.  After all, he’d been here many times before.  He took a deep breath and remembered the owl he’d received: 

_Dear Remy,_

_The potion is ready, I daresay in the nick of time, so you may come over anytime you wish.  You need to take the first dose in the next 24 hours, so tomorrow morning?  I’m working just one shift tonight, so ten o’clock wouldn’t be too early.  Stop making that face that I know you are making!_

_Love,_

_R_

He’d been surprised at the tone, because it had read like any other note or letter she’d ever sent him.  There was no sign of their recent…involvement… in it.  As if she was acting like nothing had happened between them.  He wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or hurt.  He wasn’t sure _what_ he should feel about her, or about coming over to her house, where they would be together alone…

The door opened suddenly, startling him into pressing the doorbell.  Rinna stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, eyeing him with a smile on her face.  “Well, it appears that we have this backwards.  Shall we try again?” she chuckled as she started to shut the door on him.

He extended his arm to stop the door from closing.  “Very funny.  Were you trying to give me a coronary?”

“I most certainly wasn’t.  Why go to all the trouble of brewing your potion if I intended to have you kick off on my doorstep?”  Her smile turned cheeky.  “I was just wondering how long you were going to stand there, staring.  Had you forgotten how to ring the bell?”

_So this is how we are going to play it, huh?_   “You know, I don’t need to stand here and suffer harassment from a saucy wench like you.  I can get that as easily at Mundungus’ place.”

She laughed as she turned for the kitchen.  “Does Dung keep many saucy wenches about, then?  I wouldn’t be surprised, the lecherous lout that he is.”

Remus followed her.  “And how would you know that he is lecherous?”

“Please.  That is common knowledge.”  She placed her hand on a box sitting on the kitchen table.  “Let me show you something.”  She opened the lid, and Remus saw that there were bottles nestled safely inside.  “These ones with the purple stoppers are for this month,” she explained.  “I brewed a double batch, and added a preservative to half, so the red stoppers are for next month.”  

Remus frowned a little.  “I’ve never heard of adding a preservative to it.  What did you add?  Will it change the effects?”

She tossed a periodical at him.  It was May’s issue of _The Journal of Advances in Potions_.  He turned to the table of contents and saw the article on recent advances in Wolfsbane potion.  He skimmed it with interest.  

“It will keep the potion efficacious for up to six weeks.  After that, well, it would be like what you experienced last month.  I contacted the research team at St. Mungo’s.  They did trials for two years before the article was published.  They are hoping to be able to preserve it up to four months eventually.”  She studied him seriously.  “You know I wouldn’t give you something that I didn’t think was safe or effective, Remy.”

He looked up at her.  “Of course I know that, Rinna.”  He closed the journal and set it on the table.  “And you know how much I appreciate this, don’t you?” he asked, indicating the box.  

“As if I would ever not consider doing this for you!  I’m glad you asked.”  She held his gaze as she smiled at him, but their eyes locked just a little too long for propriety, and Rinna hastily cleared her throat and looked away.  “So, uh, I’ll brew some every month, with the preservative, and so we’ll always be a month ahead.  That way if I ever bollix a batch…”

Remus snorted.  “As if _that_ would ever happen…”

She looked at him sharply, catching the look of amusement on his face and continued, “Or if for some reason I can’t brew it that month, well then we have backup.”

He crossed his arms and leaned one hip against the table. “Thank you.  You’ve no idea how much peace of mind this gives me.”

Rinna put the lid back on the box, and took out some twine to secure it.  As she fumbled with the knot, she was acutely aware of the awkwardness in the silence between them.  “So where will you spend the next full moon, then?” she asked.  

Remus shrugged.  “Someplace quiet, someplace deserted, I suppose.” 

“I have a cellar here.  You’d be safer than off in some wood or abandoned warehouse, you know,” she told him.

He kept a neutral expression.  “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to stay here,” he said gently.

Rinna sat abruptly at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands.  “Bloody effing hell,” she whispered.

“What is it?” Remus asked in concern.

“I may not make mistakes when it comes to potions, Remus, but I’m first rate at botching relationships, it seems,” she said miserably.  She looked up at him, and before he could say anything she said, “I’m so sorry, Remy.”

He sat down next to her.   “About what?”

"I'm sorry, Remus, because I haven't been fair to you..."

He thought he understood.  "You are regretting what happened between us," he commented.

"Yes. Well, no. No, 'regretting' is not the right word... I _liked_ what we had going on, whatever it was, to be honest... It's just that... I was being very selfish, Remus. And I wasn't being very honest with myself, and therefore not honest with you."

"I understand, Rinna. You could never love me in that way."

"NO! That's not what I mean!" She pushed the chair back abruptly as she stood. She stalked over to the teakettle and filled it, setting it on the burner to boil. "I was scared, Remus, and confused, when you told me the truth about Sirius... and you were there, solid and dependable, like a rock, like you have always been for me and…” She let out a heavy sigh.  “And I feel like I’ve used you.  And I’m afraid that I’ve buggered up our friendship.”

Remus crossed the kitchen and took her by the arm, shaking her gently.  “If you are going to insist on assigning blame, Rinna, then be sure to shoulder only your fair share.  We were both drunk that day, but I still knew I was crossing a line…and I didn’t care.”  He let go of her and raked his hand through his hair.  “So if anyone was using anyone, it was me taking advantage of you while you were vulnerable.”

“You could never take advantage of anyone!”  She exclaimed indignantly.  “It’s not in your nature.”

He laughed and leaned his hip against the counter, facing her.  “I can always count on you to completely overlook my faults, can’t I?”  Then he grew somber again.  “I’ve always known where I stood with you, you know.  There were lines I drew in my mind, boundaries I’d set that I’d refused to cross… but I had reached my limit of watching you torture yourself and seeing the sorrow in your eyes, and I thought that if I could just make them light up with happiness…”  He looked at her sadly.  “But I’m not the man who can do that…”

“I’m so sorry, Remy.  I was doing everything I could to avoid realizing that I am still in love with Sirius, and it wasn’t fair to you at all…” her voice dropped to a whisper.

He turned and leaned back against the counter with a sigh.  “I knew you were still in love with him.”  He saw the question on her face.  “That night, you were lying in my arms, but you were dreaming of him and it was his name on your lips.”  Her eyes grew wide, but before she could apologize yet again, he continued, “I went into this with my eyes wide open, Rinna.  I knew where your heart was… I was being selfish, too.  There was a time, when you said to me that when you were with me, you felt like you would _almost_ be all right, and I was willing to settle for that.  But that wasn’t fair to you; you deserve to be more than just ‘almost all right.’  You deserve to be happy, Rinna.”

Her eyes glinted with tears.  “You deserve that, too, you know,” she said softly as she put her hand on his cheek.  His mind stirred with the memory of Tonks on her balcony, telling him much the same thing, touching his cheek tenderly…

Remus took her hand, removed it from his face and held it loosely, lost in quiet thought.  The whistle of the kettle broke their reverie.  She squeezed his hand, and dropped it, turning away to prepare the tea. He sat down once again as she brought the teapot and cups over to the table.  They sipped in companionable silence.

Finally, Remus stated in a didactic manner, “As far as buggering up our friendship goes, I have a theory.”

She couldn’t help but smile.  “Care to enlighten me, Professor?”

“Our friendship has withstood many things, most of them far more devastating than a few experimental sessions of kissing and whatnot…”

She affected an affronted expression.  “Excuse me?  When was there ‘whatnot?’  I don’t recall any ‘whatnot,’ and if I participated in any without my knowledge, well... I’m going to be severely disappointed that I don’t remember it!” she said, mischief crinkling at the corners of her eyes.  “Besides, I’ll have you know that I am not a ‘whatnot’ kind of girl!” she added in a haughty voice.

He grinned at that.  For how many years now had they couched their affection for each other, and diffused their attraction for each other, in humor?  This was comfortable and familiar, and he felt a band of tension around his heart release.  “Oh, don’t you try and tell me that you are not a ‘whatnot’ kind of girl, Miss Dunlevy!” he said as he wagged his finger in front of her face. “Do you forget that teenaged boys share the sordid details of their romantic conquests with their best mates?” 

Rinna rolled her eyes.  “Ugh, I am so glad I was _not_  aware of that in school, or I would not have ever been able to face the rest of you!”  Even now, her cheeks felt very hot.  “But we’ve strayed onto a huge tangent from the point I hope you have, Remy.”

His face softened as the grin faded.  “My point is… this doesn’t botch something as solid as we have.  We haven’t ruined anything; we’ve just discovered a chink in the armor that we need to be careful about exposing again, that’s all,” he told her.  He searched her eyes.  “I love you; always have and always will.”

She understood.  “I love you, too, you wolf,” she said fondly.  The conversation lapsed again until Rinna said, “But I need to clear one thing up, Remy.  As far as me never being able to love you in that other way…”

“Rinna,” he said in warning.

“I think you’re wrong.  I believe I could, if circumstances were different, but…”

“But they’re not,” he said quietly, “and I can’t live on what might have been anymore.”

She looked at him compassionately.  “No, and you shouldn’t,” she replied.  “But you need to know that you are loveable.”

For the second time, her words conjured the memory of a colorfully coiffed Auror, and Remus smiled.  “If you say so, Rinna, then it must be true.”

She smacked her hand down on the table at his remark.  “Finally!  It has taken years, but it’s about time you figured that out!” 

____________________________________________________________________________________

Sirius had spent the night in the woods, explaining to Harry that he did not want to impose on Molly and Arthur, and knowing their good natures, he was sure if they knew he was nearby, they would insist on housing him.  “Harboring a fugitive: not something that Arthur should be caught at, you know,” he said.  Harry understood, and had gone back to the house to pilfer some food and an old blanket, and return the shears he’d used to cut the rose.

Harry had spent much of the next day monopolizing Sirius as they talked about the old days at Hogwarts, Sirius’ friendship with James, the Marauders’ adventures, and Quidditch.  Ron and Hermione were finally let in on the secret of Sirius’ presence after they had become concerned that Harry had disappeared completely (having missed lunch) and was likely in the throes of deep depression.  They had been rather surprised when he had popped in the side gate not long after they’d started calling for him ginning in happiness, quite the opposite of the despondent mess they’d envisioned.

The three of them had convinced Molly to let them have an evening of campfire in the woods with a late picnic dinner, marshmallows and butterbeer.  “I hope Mum will let us do this again tomorrow night,” Ron said around a mouthful of toasted marshmallows.

Sirius tossed another log onto the small campfire.  “Unfortunately, I will need to be leaving tomorrow,” he said with regret.

“What?” Harry protested, “Why?”  

“I plan on spending the full moon with an old friend,” Sirius replied as he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  “Not that it makes up for all the years I couldn’t be there for him.”

Harry swallowed his disappointment, but after hearing Sirius talk about his friendships that day, he knew how much this meant to his godfather.  “Right.”  He sighed.  “So when will I see you again?”

Sirius looked at his godson affectionately.  “I don’t know exactly when, Harry.  I wish I could tell you, but being on the lam isn’t very conducive to scheduling family get-togethers, you know.”  Harry felt all warm at the thought that Sirius considered him family.

“Oh great,” Hermione groused, licking her sticky fingers.  “I suppose this means you will be resuming your love affair with that scrapbook?”  

Harry felt a little guilty at her remark; he hadn’t been spending as much time with Hermione as he would have liked lately.  “I’m not having a love affair with it…” he began, defensively.

“Oh no?” Ron chortled.  “You’ve only been sleeping with it on the couch, keeping it under your pillow in our room… Sounds rather like the torrid romance novels that Hermione’s been reading!”

Hermione rounded on Ron in indignation.  “I have NOT been reading those trashy romance novels!  Those are your mother’s!  As IF I would read such utter nonsense!”

Sirius sat back, arms across his chest, and took in the scene.  He was reminded so forcibly of memories of his mates and two ginger-haired girls bickering good naturedly that he found that his eyes were wet.  When he trusted his voice again, he held out his hands and said, “Whoa, whoa!  What’s this all about?”

“Rinna left Harry a picture album so he could see pictures of his mum and dad,” Ron explained, “and Harry’s been glued to it ever since.”  Harry made a noise of protest.

Sirius eyes grew wide.  “Hang on.  It’s not a big one, covered with green leather, is it?”  The three kids nodded.  Sirius closed his eyes.

_“Ta daaa!  You must look at my latest masterpiece,” Rinna crowed, placing the scrapbook on Sirius’ lap, opened to the pages she’d just completed._

_“Is that what kept you from getting here sooner?” Sirius grumbled, even as he admired the craftsmanship in front of him._

_Rinna gave him a light punch in the arm.  “You know, it’s the only time I get to behave like a complete girly-girl.  You shouldn’t begrudge me my little moments of relaxation.”_

_“Ha!”  He snapped the album shut and set it aside, seizing her swiftly and pulling her into his lap.  “I can think of other times when you behave like a girly-girl,” he said with a suggestive leer._

_She playfully swatted at him.  “Got just one thing on your mind, haven’t you, Blackie?” she giggled._

_He wiggled his brows at her and grinned.  “Especially when I have you sitting on my lap.”  He tilted his chin, and captured her lips with his…_

“Sirius?”

Sirius eyes snapped open at the concern in Harry’s voice.  “I remember that album,” he said quietly.  

“I’m sorry for mentioning it, Sirius,” Hermione apologized, “for bringing up bad memories.”

Sirius studied her for a minute.  “Just because memories might be painful, doesn’t mean they are bad,” he said with a significant glance at Harry.  “And I suppose that it may actually be a good thing to think about the painful memories, particularly if that inspires you to make the first move to forgive and forget.”

Harry went to sleep that night with those words of his godfather nudging at his heart.

____________________________________________________________________________________

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed!!! I love you all so much (gets all mushy here)!  Hugs to you all!**

**Alrighty then, seeing as I’m so giddy from all those reviews, keep the love coming, folks, and leave a review for chapter 13!**


	14. Quidditch, Correspondence & Conversations

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 14: Quidditch, Correspondence, and Conversations**

**Disclaimer:  I must despondently report that I do not own any of JK Rowling’s characters or any portion of the Harry Potter universe.  I’m seriously considering begging JKR to let me have them, because they are just SO much fun to write about!  Speaking of which, any characters, places, situations or whatnot that you don’t find in her fabulous books, well they are mine.  Also, I have quoted directly from JKR’s _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ , and I will give credit in the author note at the end.**

**Please join me and lift your glass (filled with your choice of festive beverage) in a toast to my dear friend and beta-extraordinaire, Lorett.  If it hadn’t been for her persuasiveness, this story would not exist anywhere but in my mind.**

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

_Dear Rinna,_

_I’m sorry about how everything went last time.  I hope you aren’t too angry or anything.  I just wanted to let you know that I looked up your broom in that book you gave me, and it is worth a lot now.  So, you should probably consider coming over to retrieve it because Charlie keeps mooning over it like it was his girlfriend, and I don’t think any of us will be able to stop him if he decides to elope with it!_

_Anyway, Mrs. Weasley has been wondering when you are going to come to get your things, and I think she is going to invite you for dinner soon.  I hope you’ll come.  I still haven’t had a chance to talk with you about my mum._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

_\----- -----_

_Rinna luv,_

_It has been nearly two weeks, where have you been?  Now you know I don’t like to meddle, dear, but really!  Harry has been moping about, looking at that album you’ve left him.  You know that he found out in just a matter of a few weeks that he had a godfather AND a godmother, and yet neither of them has been available to him.  Really, that is as cruel as dangling a ferret in front of a hippogriff and snatching it away!_

_I suspect that you are feeling embarrassed about all the incidents with Sirius.  I hope you can put all that behind you and come to dinner, say tomorrow night, or the night after?  You do have your broom and clothes to pick up, and it is not too late to set things right with your godson, you know._

_I only say these things because I care about you, dear._

_Love,_

_Molly_

_\----- -----_

_Dear Molly,_

_It is reassuring to me to know that your mastery of laying on the guilt in thick layers like jam has not diminished one iota!  Yes, I am embarrassed and feeling like an utter idiot about those fiascos with Sirius.  Yes, I feel like complete dragon dung for disappearing from Harry’s life after dropping off that album.  Yes, I will accept your invitation to dinner, but it will have to be the night after tomorrow due to work.  I will try not to disappoint you and incur any more of your wrath._

_And since when have you not liked to meddle?!_

_Thank you for loving me and mothering me and please, next time, try not to hold back on the scathing tongue-lashing._

_Love,_

_Rinna_

_\----- -----_

_Dear Harry,_

_Thanks for letting me know about the invitation.  I’ve actually just responded; I’m coming to dinner the day after tomorrow._

_Please know that I was never angry with you, Harry.  I’m rather embarrassed at my behavior, and I’m afraid you’ve probably gotten a miserable impression of me so far.  So, I’m hoping to rectify that in a few days.  I’ll try to behave myself!  And we shall definitely take some time to talk about your mum.  I really do want you to know what an amazing person she was._

_As for my Silver Dart… please make sure that Charlie isn’t drooling on it, or pawing it needlessly.  And for Merlin’s sake, do NOT let him abscond with it!  I am trusting you to guard the virtue of my broom, Harry.  I know you are up to the task!_

_Hoping to do a better job of being your godmother,_

_Rinna_   

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Arthur Weasley burst into the Burrow and shouted triumphantly, “I’ve got ‘em!  I’ve got ‘em!  Box seats!  What do you think of that, eh?”  His announcement was greeted by a chorus of cheers.  Arthur looked around the dinner table at the people gathered there until his eyes locked onto his wife.  “Sorry about being late to dinner, dear, but this makes up for being called in on my day off, don’t you think?” he grinned at her.

“Well, I suppose,” Molly said grudgingly, but there was a smile on her face.

“Nonsense!” said Arthur, “Of course it does!”  He came up behind his wife and placed a kiss on the top of her head.  “Do you know what this means, my love?” he asked Molly.

“I presume that we will be breaking out the old tent?” she supplied.

“Yes!”  He pounded his fist on the table in emphasis.  “We shall be breaking out the old tent!”  

Another round of hurrahs and whistles went up, nearly deafening everyone there.  Arthur moved along the table as he navigated his way to his seat, placing a hand on Rinna’s shoulder for a quick squeeze as he passed her. “Well, here’s my wayward girl!  Good to see you, Rinna,” he said.  “You will be joining us, I trust, in the Top Box?”  His exultant look threatened to split his face right in half.

Baffled as she was, Rinna couldn’t help but smile at all the infectious excitement, and especially the jubilant expression that Arthur wore.  She shrugged apologetically.  “Well, I suppose I could, IF I knew what you all were going on about.”

Arthur looked at her incredulously as he took his seat.  “What?  Have you forgotten that England is hosting the Quidditch World Cup?”

Rinna’s mouth made an O of realization.  She was surprised to be included in the Weasleys’ plans, especially since such choice seats were hard to come by, and, honestly, she hadn’t expected to be adopted so seamlessly back into the family fold after so many years out of touch.  Better to let them think that she had forgotten.  “Goodness, that’s Monday, isn’t it?”  

“You are coming, aren’t you?”  Arthur and Harry spoke at the same time.  

As Rinna’s gaze moved from Arthur to Harry, her heart gave a little wrench to see the eager, hopeful look on his face.  There was no way out of it, not if she didn’t want to be a huge disappointment to her godson, _again_.  Besides… they were Top Box seats!  She grinned at Harry.  “I wouldn’t miss it for all the Galleons at Gringotts!”

Harry gave her his high-voltage grin and bobbed in his seat with emphasis, “Brilliant!”

Rinna resolved that she would make damned sure that Harry had more occasions to wear that dazzling smile.  She looked around the room at all the happy faces; there was no way in hell she was missing this opportunity.  She’d just have to tell Dorrie to find someone else to use the ticket she’d already purchased with her Auror friend.   

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry stepped out to the back porch, looking for his godmother.  He found her down by Mrs. Weasley’s rosebushes, and he swallowed nervously when he noticed which bush she was inspecting.  He cleared his throat and said, “I’ve brought out some cookies…”

She turned and eyed the plate he was carrying.  “Mmm… Chocolate chip.”  She took one and bit into it.  “Molly makes the best chocolate chip cookies.”  She licked the melted chocolate from the still-warm-from-the-oven cookie off her fingers.

Harry mumbled agreement around his third cookie, and following her lead, licked his fingers too.  Rinna cocked her head and looked at him.  “So,” she said softly, “is Sirius still here?”  She almost laughed at the expression on his face: like he’d been caught filching the cookies he’d brought her.

He swallowed and answered, “Uh, no, not anymore.  He left before the full moon.  Said he was going to spend it with Professor Lupin.”  He tried to read her expression, but it was difficult to do in the deepening twilight.  “How did you know?”

Harry was relieved to hear a low chuckle.  “It took me a few days to remember where I’d seen a rose like that before.  And it seemed peculiar to me that it wasn’t delivered by owl like the last one he sent me, but left on my doorstep instead… unless, it was so I wouldn’t see the owl that delivered it and recognize her snowy white plumage?”  She quirked an eyebrow at him.  “I just put together the facts and concluded he was here.”

Harry hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking on his part, but she sounded a little disappointed that Sirius was gone.  Something she’d said caused his brows to come together.  “Hang on, he sent you another rose?”

She chuckled again, “Yes, the day after I made such an ass of myself when I’d read that letter…”  Harry could tell she was smiling when she said, “It’s classic Sirius, really.  Sending me an anonymous rose by owl…”

Her voice definitely sounded dreamy.  Harry grinned.  This was promising.  “You know what I think?” he asked.  His tone practically dripped with _I know something you don’t_.

“What?” was the amused reply as Rinna crossed her arms.

“I think he wants to get back together with you.”

Rinna stared at him and a bizarre image popped into her head of Harry ghost-writing the “Dear Alberta” column in the Sunday _Prophet_.  She was quiet for a spell before she said, more to herself than Harry, “Yeah, but I don’t understand why he would.”

Harry gave a small snort.  “Well, I don’t understand it either.”  Then he realized the words came out sounding wrong.  “I- I mean, I don’t get why it has to be so hard.  He likes you… you like him… you were engaged…”

She eyed him sharply.  “Did he tell you that?”

Harry looked a little sheepish.  “Ah, no.  I figured it out from the pictures you gave me.”

“I thought I…”

“The concealment charm got broken,” he hastily explained.  She studied him suspiciously, but did not press for more details.  “So… why don’t you just get back together?” he asked.

Rinna sighed.  “I wish it were that easy, Harry, but it’s not.  It’s…”

“Let me guess…” he said sardonically, “complicated?”

Her expression was inscrutable as she studied him.  “That would be an excellent one-word summary, yes.”

Harry asked, “Is it because he’s a fugitive?”

“Well, that certainly makes it more challenging, but…”  He was looking at her, with serious green eyes that reminded her of his mother.  Lily never would have let her off without detailed clarification, and she suspected Harry had inherited her tenacity.  Rinna took a deep breath, and huffed it out through her mouth.  “The difficulty, Harry, is that I wronged your godfather.  I broke faith with him, and the fact is you can’t just mend trust overnight.  It takes time to rebuild a relationship after something like that, and it needs to be done slowly and carefully… Do you understand what I mean?”

Harry contemplated this, then nodded his head slowly.  “Kind of like with you and me, right?”

A lump suddenly formed in Rinna’s throat and her heart did a funny _ka-thunk_ in her chest.  “Right,” she croaked in a whisper, unable to trust her voice to be steady.  Once again her godson had swept inside her defenses with his scruffy hair and his mother’s eyes and his indomitable spirit and snatched away a piece of her heart like it was a Snitch.  What chance did she have against the combined play of Harry the Seeker and Sirius the Chaser?  

Harry heard the odd choke in Rinna’s answer.  “Okay, I’ll shut it now if you’d like.”

Rinna cleared her throat.  “No, that’s alright.  Maybe we should go sit down though.  And I think a change of topic would be good.”

“Sure,” said Harry, turning for the porch.  “Will you tell me something about my mum?”

Rinna felt a new-found appreciation for the Muggle saying _out of the frying pan, into the fire_ , but she was ready.  “I will,” she assured him.  “Would you like to hear more about how we became friends?”  She was treated to her second exposure of the evening to the megawatt grin.

Harry was ecstatic over the wealth of information he discovered about his mum.  He kept asking question after question, storing up everything Rinna told him for later pondering.  He was sorely disappointed that their talk had to end, because he’d really only scratched the surface of what he wanted to know, but he believed Rinna when she told him that they would have more talks like this one in the future.  

Rinna was somewhat surprised that she found it much easier to talk about Lily now than a few weeks ago.  It was bizarre, but once she started, she found it really not that painful to tell more and more about her beloved and sorely missed friend.  She still let Harry lead the conversation, though, by asking the things he wanted to know, respecting that this was _his_ search. In the end, although she still felt an aching sadness for her loss, she experienced a sense of contentment that someone else was now able to appreciate just how wonderful a person Lily Evans Potter had been.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Rinna looked up into the stadium and saw the Top Box the Ministry witch had indicated.  She hoped she’d given herself plenty of time; being late for the start of the Quidditch World Cup would do nothing to further her cause to get back in the good graces her godson.  Actually, she felt that the two of them had made some good headway the other night after dinner, but that didn’t stop her from being concerned about her fledgling relationship with Harry.  She was hoping to continue the salvaging of it tonight, especially if she was even considering Dumbledore’s crazy proposal to teach at Hogwarts (which she was, seriously).

Her musings had carried her up the purple carpeted steps to the top of the stadium, and she was relieved to see she had minutes to spare.  Charlie caught her eye as she looked around the box and he waved enthusiastically.  The buzzing excitement and infectious smiles everywhere caused Rinna to grin as she made her way to the Weasleys.

“Hello, old girl,” Arthur greeted her warmly with a kiss to the cheek.  “Glad you could make it.”

“These are fantastic seats!  I can’t thank you enough for…” she began, slightly breathless from her climb.

“Nonsense.  This is a family outing, and you _are_ family, Rinna.  Naturally, you’d be included,” he smiled at her paternally. 

Rinna returned his smile gratefully, then turned and said, “Hullo, Harry, Hermione, Ron.”  She was greeted enthusiastically.  

Harry grinned at her.  “Isn’t this fantastic?”  She nodded in agreement, grinning even more in response to their three excited, happy faces.  The youngsters started talking animatedly about everything they’d seen so far.  They were interrupted by the arrival of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, who had the Bulgarian Minister in tow.  Rinna moved away and quietly watched as Harry became the center of interest.  

“Poor kid.  He looks uncomfortable with all the attention.” 

Rinna spun around at the voice to find Bill at her shoulder, watching the scene with her.  He smiled at her in greeting and continued, “At least he hasn’t gotten a swollen head, well as far as I can tell.  He seems like a nice lad, in spite of how he was treated by those awful Muggles.”

“Yes …” she began, but her train of thought was derailed by the sight of a family of light blond heads.  _Malfoy._ _Of course, Rinna girl, you couldn’t expect to slip back into the wizarding world without running into some old school mates, now could you?_   She snorted, amused that her mind was already schooling her for a politely fake interaction.  _‘School mate’ indeed!_   Rinna had few fond memories of Lucius Malfoy from her early years at Hogwarts, and she remembered who it was that Lucius had supported during the war. 

She watched Malfoy shake hands with Fudge, and then turn to Arthur with a contemptuous look.  She barely heard Malfoy’s soft slur: “Good lord, Arthur, what did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box?  Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much?” The Minister of Magic, of course, missed the insulting comment and continued to prattle on.(*)

Rinna plastered on an impassive smile just as Malfoy’s cold grey eyes swept across the row of red-heads, stopping suddenly and returning to her face.  His eyes widened slightly, and then he smirked.  “Arinna Dunlevy.  What a pleasant surprise,” he said, his voice as smooth as polished marble.

The expression on Rinna’s face did not change.  “Lucius.”  Her voice was genial and neutral. 

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione in surprise.  “She knows him?” he mouthed silently to them.  They both shrugged.

“This is quite a coincidence,” Malfoy continued, “to see you here just days after your application crossed my desk.” Rinna quirked an eyebrow at him.  “I am on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts, you realize.”

Rinna nodded her head gracefully.  “Of course.” Inwardly she cringed, for she hadn’t intended to say anything to Harry or the Weasleys unless she was actually formally offered the position at Hogwarts.

Hermione grabbed Harry’s elbow tightly.  “Did you hear that?” she whispered.  Harry and Ron nodded, never taking their eyes off the scene.

“You’ll remember my wife, Narcissa, of course,” Malfoy commented in an unctuous manner, “and this is my son, Draco.”  Rinna inclined her head to each, but before she could say anything, Malfoy spoke again.  “Tell me, Arinna, you never married then?  Narcissa informed me you were engaged to be wed to her black sheep of a cousin.”

Rinna gazed at him, inwardly seething.  He was baiting her; she could tell from his eyes, hard grey eyes that held a hint of malice.  Well, she knew the rules of engagement in skirmishes such as this; one couldn’t belong to a Pure-blooded family without learning the game and playing it in one form or another in one’s life.  She lifted her chin, and replied coolly, smile still etched on her face, “Yes, I was to marry her cousin, but as you well know, certain circumstances prevented that from happening.”

He chuckled as if she had said something witty.  “Ah yes, I suppose it would be hard to wed a murderer when he was serving a life term in Azkaban.”

By this point, the Trio was exchanging uncomfortable glances with the rest of the Weasley clan, who were clenching and unclenching their fists.  Harry realized he had actually raised his when Draco Malfoy caught his eye and sneered, looking as if he was daring (and perhaps hoping for) Harry to start any trouble.

Rinna wanted to punch the smirk right off Lucius Malfoy’s face, but years of upbringing and training in the Pure-blooded world, as well as useful skills learned in the Order, _those deep breathing exercises do come in handy now and then_ , kept her in check.  It should have bothered her, how easily she slipped back into the game, like her foot slipped into a comfortable shoe, but she was too busy feeling the rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins.  Her mind was analyzing and plotting at lightning speed. 

“I’m wondering, Lucius,” she said pleasantly, as if she were talking about how nice the summer evening was, “if there is a point to our lovely conversation, because, riveting as it is, I think I could better spend my time enjoying the sights.”  She gestured around the stadium and then presented him with a saccharine-sweet smile.

Rinna was rewarded by the barest of twitches in Malfoy’s upper lip.  “Really, Arinna, can’t I just be curious about an old school mate?”

Rinna mentally snorted at that.  “Dear Lucius, do I have to remind you that we spent only three years at Hogwarts at the same time, two of which you completely ignored my existence and the final of which you made my life quite hellish because you labeled me a blood-traitor?”  Her voice, remarkably, was still quite aloof.

Harry’s head snapped up at _that_ interesting bit of information.

Malfoy fixed Rinna with a look of frosty disdain. “I must say, when I looked at your file, I was quite surprised when I made the connection between the woman with that impeccable resume and the little girl who caused so much trouble at Hogwarts because she couldn’t seem to pick the right friends.”  He stopped to flick a condescending glance up and down the row at the Weasleys surrounding her.  “But then, I see that you are _still_ associating with red-headed riff-raff.”  The temperature in the Top Box suddenly seemed to drop to sub-arctic levels.  Malfoy snickered to himself triumphantly when he saw a muscle twitch in Rinna’s jaw.  

Rinna’s green eyes snapped.  “The Weasleys took me in after my parents were killed, Malfoy.”  Then her voice dropped in pitch.  “An event that I believe you are also well aware of.”  Her tone was positively glacial.

Grey eyes narrowed.  “You should be careful of what you imply, my dear, especially since I have some say in whether or not you will be offered this position you seek at Hogwarts,” Malfoy replied in a soft, intimidating voice.  The hostile tension in the box was palpable.  

Everyone observing the scene jumped in surprise when Rinna threw back her head and laughed.  “Lucius Malfoy, you’d be a fool if you thought that I had everything riding on this one position.  I have submitted that very same application to schools all across the Continent.  I am sure one of them would be pleased to have someone with my credentials working for them.”  Her smile was full of derision.  “Now, I believe we have a Quidditch match to watch.”

Harry was dumbfounded by the whole scene, but nothing prepared him for what happened next.  Having so tacitly dismissed the very affronted Lucius Malfoy, Rinna turned and graciously took Narcissa Malfoy’s hand.  “It was nice to see you again after all these years, Cissy,” she said sincerely.

Narcissa looked at her with unreadable blue eyes.  “It was a pleasure to see you, too, Rinna,” she murmured, before turning away completely to find her seat.

Draco Malfoy shot the Trio a look of contempt before joining his parents, but Harry hardly noticed.  “Did you hear that?” he hissed at Ron and Hermione.  “What she called her?”

“Yeah, she called her ‘Cissy.’  What’s the big deal?” Ron whispered.  “I’m more interested in knowing what that talk of a position at Hogwarts was...”

“No,” Harry sputtered impatiently, “What Mrs. Malfoy called Rinna.”

Hermione was puzzled. “I’m not following you, Harry.  She called her ‘Rinna.’” 

Harry was utterly frustrated by their obtuseness.  “She told me that only her _friends_ call her Rinna…” he said, trailing off significantly.  

Hermione’s eyes widened as Ron said under his breath, “Blimey.  D’you think she was friends with Malfoy’s mother back at school?”

Whatever reply Harry was going to make was interrupted as Ludo Bagman blustered into the Top Box.  “Minister,” he addressed Fudge, “ready to go?” When Fudge answered in the affirmative, Bagman spoke the _sonorous_ spell, and his amplified voice welcomed the spectators to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup.  All eyes focused forward on the stadium, and the altercation between Rinna and Lucius Malfoy was forgotten as the team mascots began their shows.  

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

After the spectacular ending of the match (Bulgaria 160, Ireland 170), and after the Quidditch World Cup had been handed to the Irish team and they had taken a last victory lap, and after Fred and George had demanded their payment for the bet they’d made with Ludo Bagman on the outcome of the game, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry and Rinna gradually made their way down the purple stairs and out of the stadium. While Arthur was admonishing the twins to not tell their mother they had been gambling, the rest of the group was talking animatedly about the astonishing outcome of the match.  

They reached the Weasleys’ campsite, and Arthur, realizing no one would be able to fall asleep right away with all the boisterous celebrating going on, invited Rinna to join them for a cup of hot cocoa.  She hesitated.  _At some point someone will remember my little tête-à-tête with Malfoy and ask questions,_ she thought.  Then she looked at Harry, laughing with his friends, and realized she didn’t have the heart to go.  She smiled at Arthur and thanked him.  Soon everyone was sitting in the tent, mugs in hand.  

Rinna felt content as she sat and listened, and participated, as the group enthusiastically recalled various plays, and argued about others, and she watched with amusement as the twins took turns reenacting them with their spoons.  She laughed and cheered with the rest as George demonstrated Viktor Krum’s catching of the Snitch to end the game.  So relaxed was she, that it came as a jolt not unlike being doused with a bucket of cold water when Arthur leaned over to pour more hot cocoa in her mug and said, “I say, Rinna.  What was Lucius Malfoy going on about some position at Hogwarts?”

That was what she loved about Arthur Weasley: he was a get-to-the-point kind of bloke.  There was no beating around the bush, no couching questions in polite terms, no innuendo or intrigue.  No wonder he did not get along with most of the other Pure-bloods!  

The tent had quieted to hear her answer.  She gave a big sigh.  “Professor Dumbledore seems to think I may be of some use to him this year,” she began, “in light of certain events that will be happening at Hogwarts…”  She was interrupted by Arthur harrumphing pointedly while Charlie choked on his hot cocoa.  “…that I am not at liberty to tell you about,” she cast an admonishing glance at Harry, Hermione, Ron and the twins, who all looked like they were going to ask the question.  “Naturally, any staffing changes have to go through the Board of Governors, so Malfoy has apparently read my application.”  She shrugged as if unconcerned.  

“Would you be teaching?” wondered Hermione.

“What subject?” added Harry, remembering the Defense Against the Dark Arts position had been vacated by Professor Lupin.

“I really hadn’t planned on saying anything about it yet, mostly because the position has not been officially offered to me thus far.  I’m not one for counting my chickens before they’ve hatched,” she told them, effectively avoiding answering their questions.

“What I want to know,” said Bill, his eyes twinkling, “is if you really have put in applications to other schools across the Continent?”

Rinna laughed.  “You’ve called my bluff, Bill Weasley.  If this does not come through, then I remain at my current place of employment.”

Ginny asked, “What do you do?”

Rinna looked directly at her, her eyes still crinkled in merriment at Bill’s impertinence.  “I’m a bartender,” she said easily. Ginny, Ron, Harry and Hermione weren’t sure if she was serious or not, and were too taken aback to press the issue further.   

The conversation had returned to Quidditch and it was getting late when Rinna downed the last of her cocoa and stood up.  She raised her empty mug in salute to Arthur, and said, “Thank you for the excellent refreshments, and for a smashing evening, everyone.  I’m off.  Goodnight.”  She smiled at Harry, who, while disgruntled that he’d not gotten any more information out of her, managed a smile back.  Bill and Charlie offered to walk her safely to the Apparition Point, and they exited, one on each of her arms.

\----- -----

They had reached the queue for the Apparition Point, and Rinna was about to thank the two red-headed men when she was startled to hear a cheerful voice: “Well, Arinna Dunlevy, have you come down from your Top Box to mingle with us low-landers?”

Rinna smiled and started to speak before she even turned. “Yes, Dorrie darling, but I’m sure you found yourself some handsome bloke to sit next to you and didn’t even miss me at all…”  Rinna’s voice trailed off in surprise as she completed her turn and came face to face with Tonks and…

Remus Lupin was looking at her with an amused smirk and one eyebrow cocked.  Rinna gaped for a long second before her wits returned to her.  She shifted her gaze from Remus’ face to Tonks’.  “Nice job, Dorrie.  You got the best of the bunch, I see.”

Remus crossed his arms and snorted.  “Smooth recovery, Rinna.”

“Years of study under the famed Marauders have made me what I am today,” Rinna quipped.  She turned to the men at her side.  “Charlie, Bill, I believe you know my friend Tonks: Auror, chameleon and best roommate ever.”

“Nymphadora Tonks,” Bill smiled suavely and shook her hand.  “It’s great to see you again.”

“It’s just ‘Tonks,’ Bill,” she grinned at him, “and it’s good to see you, too.”  She turned to his brother, “Wotcher, Charlie!”

“Tonks,” Charlie said as he bowed exaggeratedly over her hand.  He straightened and looked at Remus.  “Blimey, Lupin, it seems that every time we see you lately, you’re in the company of a beautiful woman!”  Charlie was wearing his most charming grin as he glanced sideways at Tonks to see if she’d caught the compliment.  She had, and blushed.

Remus drawled, “What can I say, Charlie?  It’s a gift.”  He noticed that both women were casting appreciative smiles at the dragon tamer, and felt a sudden nudge of possessiveness.  To his dismay, Tonks was speaking, inviting the two Weasley upstarts to join them.

“Remus and I were going to go for drinks, if you lot want to join us?”

The lads looked tempted, but Bill sighed and said, “Thanks, but we probably should get back.”  He looked at Charlie, who nodded, looking disappointed.  Bill smiled at Rinna, “Having done our duty as chivalrous men of honor, madam, by seeing you safely here, and noting that you are now in the company of friends… we bid you adieu.”  He executed a small bow.

Charlie rolled his eyes.  “Don’t try and show me up, Bill.  You only embarrass yourself.”  He turned and grasped one of Rinna’s hands, holding it dramatically to his chest.  “All my living hours will be torment from this moment until I lay eyes on you again, milady.”

Rinna laughed and extricated her hand.  “You two are incorrigible flirts, did you know?  Give my best to everyone; I had a wonderful time.”

The two cheerily waved and returned to the camp.  Rinna turned to see Remus scowling.  “They have a lot of cheek,” he grumbled.  “Will your head shrink down enough that you can join us for drinks?” he asked Rinna a bit sourly.

She frowned at him.  “Ha ha. I suppose you think that I get off on young men showering me with compliments and flirting outrageously with me, do you?  Feeling a little out of sorts about that, are you?”  

Tonks rolled her eyes.  Those two picked the oddest times to go off on their little tiffs.  "So, shall we go for drinks?" suggested Tonks pointedly.

Her companions looked at each other and shrugged, smiling a little ruefully. "Might as well," said Rinna, "the night is still young, and the company is good."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry lay gracelessly on top of the covers of the bed in the room he shared with Ron, having only managed to kick off his trainers and pull off the sweaty t-shirt he’d been wearing for the impromptu Quidditch game he and Ron, the twins and the eldest Weasley siblings had played.  It had served as a means of letting off steam after the long and frightening night that had followed the Quidditch World Cup, because no matter how tired they’d felt as they staggered into the Burrow that morning, everyone had been too wound up to go right to sleep.  But now, Ron was already snoring softly, and Harry was in that weird state of being aware of his surroundings but dozing at the same time.  

His mind kept replaying the events of the night before, and visions of wizards in masks, terrified Muggles suspended midair, and the Dark Mark hanging low and ominous in the sky swirled together as fatigue finally claimed him and he slipped into unconsciousness.  Soon the disturbing images began to meld with memories of a strange dream he’d had a few nights ago.  

_The snake in the Dark Mark glides out of the skull and begins to slither up the stairs to a room lit by a fireplace, and Wormtail is there… he speaks to a wizard in a mask, but the mask disappears, and there is no face, only a glittering skull in the sky… an old man slumps to the floor, and is suddenly suspended in the air, upside down…and a voice comes from the antique armchair facing the fire, a voice that sounds so familiar, sounds like a woman he knows… like his godmother… “Is anyone there?  Arthur?  Harry?  Sweet Merlin, please tell me everyone is all right?”_

Harry came up from the nightmare sluggishly, willfully dragging himself into consciousness as the dream stubbornly clung to him like ankle-deep mud, sucking and adhering to him.  Finally, as he clawed his way into wakefulness, he felt like there was an almost sickening slurp of suction as the dream released his mind.  He gasped and sat up, tentatively bringing his hand up to rub his scar, but it only ached the tiniest bit, not like after the dream from the other night.   He looked wildly around, disoriented, and saw Ron sit up, bleary-eyed.

“What is it, mate?” Ron asked, unsettled.

Harry shook his head to clear it.  Then he and Ron heard voices drifting up the stairs; Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Charlie, and…Rinna.  Her voice sounded very strained, and Mrs. Weasley sounded concerned.  Harry grabbed a clean t-shirt and threw it on before heading for the stairs, Ron at his heels.  He stopped near the bottom to listen.  

“Molly, I’m sorry for barging in like that,” Rinna was clearly shaken, and her words came out in a rush.  “I woke up late, and went for a run, and I finally stopped to pick up the paper and saw this,” (Harry heard the _plop_ of a newspaper hitting the kitchen table) “and I panicked.”

Mrs. Weasley answered, “Sit down, luv.  You look as transparent as a ghost.  I’ll fix you some tea and we’ll tell you what happened.”  Harry could hear the sound of a teapot filling with water.  “Bill, be a dear, and fetch the bottle of Ogden’s for me.”

Harry could hear Bill moving toward the living room, so he stepped down the rest of the stairs rather than be caught eavesdropping.  Ron followed him.  Bill glanced at them as he passed.  “Hey, you two.”

“I thought you were sleeping,” Mrs. Weasley said in a disapproving voice, but she set out two more teacups.

Rinna brought her hand to her forehead.  “Oh no, did I wake you?”  Harry noticed that she did look rather pale, and her mouth was drawn with worry.

“Nah,” Harry lied.  Ron shook his head, taking his cue from Harry.  They sat at the table and accepted tea from Mrs. Weasley with thanks.  Harry noticed that Mrs. Weasley poured some Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey into Rinna’s tea, and that Rinna’s hands were shaking as she sipped it.  Her eyes kept drifting to the large black and white photo of the Dark Mark on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_.  Harry wondered how many times she had seen that mark in the past.

Harry, Ron, Charlie and Bill explained to her everything that happened after she had left the campsite.  She grew even paler, if that were possible, especially when Harry explained that it was his wand that was used to conjure the Dark Mark.

“Was anyone killed?” she whispered.

“Not that we know of,” answered Bill.

“Then why would they cast the Dark Mark?” she wondered.

“We saw someone cast the spell, but it was far away from where the Death Eaters were,” Ron said.

“But if the Death Eaters didn’t cast it, then who did?” Rinna wore a perplexed frown as she tried to puzzle it out.  

“Dunno,” said Charlie, “but I suppose that’s what Dad is trying to figure out at the Ministry right now.”

“Have a little more tea, Rinna?” Mrs. Weasley offered, and without waiting for a reply, she refilled the cup from the kettle and added some more whiskey.  Rinna gave a small smile of thanks.  “Feeling any better, dear?” the motherly woman asked solicitously.  

Rinna placed her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands.  “It was just such a shock, seeing that picture in the paper,” she said softly, “and knowing that you all were there…”

Mrs. Weasley stood behind her and put her hands on the upset witch’s shoulders.  “Everyone is safe,” she said soothingly.  Rinna nodded, and sipped her tea, still looking worried.

Eventually Rinna said, “Well, I should be going.  You lot look like you could do with some sleep.”  She gave Harry a little smile, and he had the feeling that she didn’t believe that she hadn’t woken him and Ron.  

Harry suddenly had the idea to tell her about his odd dream a few nights before, and that his scar had hurt.  “Rinna,” he said quickly, “can I talk to you before you go?”

“Of course,” she answered quizzically.  She looked around. “Shall we go to the living room?”

“Yeah,” he answered with some relief, wishing for privacy.

“What is it, Harry?” she questioned, once they were alone.

Harry fidgeted a bit nervously.  “Well, I had a strange dream about three days ago.  I wrote Sirius about it, but Hedwig hasn’t come back with an answer yet… and I wanted to know what you think.”

A flush finally colored Rinna’s pale face, and Harry thought she looked rather pleased that he was asking her advice.  “Tell me about it,” she suggested.  So he told her all the details he could remember about Wormtail and the old Muggle man, and Voldemort plotting to kill Harry.

“And then there was a flash of green light, and I woke up, and my scar was hurting.”

“Has your scar ever hurt before?” she queried.

“Yeah, yeah it has. Whenever Voldemort was at Hogwarts.”  Harry noted again that she didn’t flinch at the name.  “But I don’t see how he could have been near here.”

“Right,” she said thoughtfully.

Harry haltingly asked, “Do you know why my scar would hurt?  And do you think it was just a dream…?”

She looked at him appraisingly.  “I haven’t heard about curse scars hurting,” she told him.  “I’ll look into it.  And to be honest, it sounds a little too detailed to be a dream.  Besides how would your mind come up with those images?  I suppose it could… some dreams have symbolic meanings you know, or at least most people think so…”  She looked apologetic.  “I’m no help at all, am I?”   

He tried not to look too disappointed, but then again, he felt like he could be honest with her.  “Well, uh, not really.”

She looked him up and down, and Harry felt like she was sizing him up, seeing if she thought he had enough mettle.  “Harry, I think that this isn’t just a dream.  I don’t know exactly what you saw, but it does seem a bit of a coincidence that it happened just days before all of this Dark Mark business, now doesn’t it?”  Harry nodded.  He was afraid she might say that.

“I’ll tell you what,” she stated.  “I will do a little research on this, and if I come up with anything, any explanations, I will let you know.  And will you be sure to tell me if you remember any more details, or if you have the dream again?”

“Okay,” Harry agreed.  “Thanks.”

She gazed at him, and her expression softened.  “I’m glad you felt like you could tell me about this, Harry,” she said quietly.

He looked at her seriously.  “Thanks for listening, and for not telling me I’d gone barmy.”

“I will always listen to you, Harry.  I promise.  Anytime you need me to.  All right?”

He grinned.  “Yeah.”

She reached her hand to his shoulder and gave it a squeeze before pulling him into a quick hug.  “Now go get some rest, scamp,” she said affectionately, and she ruffled his hair.

Harry didn’t feel any better about his dream, or the events at the QWC, but he still couldn’t help the grin on his face as he made his way back upstairs and to bed.  Talking to his godmother about his worries had definitely been a good idea.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

**Author Note:  1.  In the paragraph marked with an asterisk (*), Lucius Malfoy speaks to Arthur Weasley a quote directly from _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire,_ from chapter 8 “The Quidditch World Cup.”**

**2.  I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  Originally, it had a lot more to it, but I realized that much of it was superfluous to the plot and needed to be cut, so I hope this was satisfactory for everyone.  Please, please, please review and tell me what you thought!  I am grateful for everyone who reviewed my last chapter.  Hugs and kisses to all of you!**

**3.  My fabulous beta, Lorett (who deserves heaps of praise) suggested that I post the stuff I cut out down below for anyone who is interested to read.  (Kind of like the deleted scenes from a DVD.)  It is a little glimpse into what Remus, Tonks and Rinna did after leaving the QWC to go have drinks.  Like I said, it did nothing to advance the plot, and was a bit silly, really, so I stopped writing it midway.  But it was fun to write and so I will share it with you now.**    

______________________________________________________________________________________________                                                                                                                                                

Remus and Tonks found a table near the dance floor of the Muggle club Tonks had chosen.  Rinna arrived soon after with a tray of shot glasses filled with a clear liquid, a bowl of cut limes and a large saltcellar. Tonks groaned, “No Dunnie, not tequila.  That stuff is like dirty socks!”

“Sucked on many dirty socks, have you?” Rinna asked archly.  “I’ll have you know, Dorrie, that this is not that cheap nasty stuff you are referring to.  This is fine, top of the line; very expensive and very smooth sipping tequila.  It will roll down your throat like cream.”

Remus took an experimental sniff.  “It doesn’t smell like dirty socks,” he noted.  “What are the limes and salt for, if we’re not going to do shots?  I thought you said this was for sipping?”

“It is,” Rinna said patiently, “or it can be.  I, being the friend that I am, and taking pity on you and your refined tastes,” she smirked at Remus impudently at that point, “decided to splurge and get the good stuff so we can enjoy ourselves… of course, if our goal is to get royally pissed, then I’ll get the cheap swill…”

“No, no… I don’t think it would be a good idea to get pissed,” Remus hastily interrupted.  Tonks smirked and eyed each of them knowingly.

“Well, then, do shots or sip, as you see fit.”  Rinna divvied up the glasses, and the three companions sipped comfortably and allowed themselves to unwind from all the excitement of the evening.

The sounds of dance music filled the club with a pulsing rhythm. "I feel like dancing,"Tonks exclaimed. "Who's with me?"

Rinna glanced at her friend. "This seems suspiciously like use of the Nymphadora Tonks Formula..."

"Well, we have the beverage, and the exertional activity, but only one of the sentient components..." she glanced at Lupin who was looking at them quizzically. "But why not, it's close enough!" Tonks laughed. "C'mon you two!"

Rinna shrugged and grinned, standing up to follow but Remus shook his head. "Oh, come on, Remy," Rinna cajoled. "You owe me for the tequila, you know."

He raised his eyebrows. "I see how it is... you buy a guy a few drinks, and suddenly expect him to do your nefarious bidding."

Tonks laughed, "Oh, you poor baby! Feeling cheap and used, are we?" Remus nodded, trying to keep a petulant look, but the wicked twinkle in his eye ruined the effect he was going for. "Don't worry, Remus, we'll still respect you in the morning," Tonks teased. "Won't we, Dunnie?"

Rinna nodded emphatically as she hooked her arm under Remus' and hauled upward, pulling him out of his seat. She adopted the demeanor of a vampy movie actress and purred, "Oh, yes, dahling... we'll respect you," she made the word 'respect' sound very risqué, "in the morning, at lunch time, tea time, whenever you want..."

She had brought him around the table by this point, so Tonks latched onto the other arm and picked up the charade, "We have plenty of respect for a scrummy bloke like you, Professor."Hervoice dripped with suggestive promise as she helpedRinna pull him onto the dance floor.

"All right, all right!" Remus laughingly conceded defeat. "I'll dance, but only to stop you both from sexually harassing me."

Tonks moved very close to him, gyrating her hips to the music, and placed her lips close to his ear to make herself heard, "You don'tlook all that harassed to me, Lupin!" Remus grinned, and noticed that she made no effort to move out of his personal space.

A song or two later, it was hard for him to tell because they all sounded the same to him, Remus made his escape back to the table. He sipped on his last shot, savoring the burn and taste of the liquor. Rinna knew her stuff, Muggle or otherwise. He smiled at the girls as they had turned and waved to him, laughing, and then felt the need to wave back to them. He didn't realize how the three of them carrying on must have looked until he heard a masculine voice behind him.

"Lucky bastard. Are they both yours?"

Remus snorted.  As if someone would actually think he was the type of fellow who could handle the two of them at once!  “Yeah, they’re both mine,” he stated sardonically, turning to face the man who’d addressed him.

The man, obviously a working class bloke out having a few drinks with his buddies before heading home, nodded and watched them dance and asked, “So are they into each other, too?”

Remus rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, right.”  He didn’t realize the man was drunk enough for the sarcasm to be lost on him.

The stocky fellow gave a loud guffaw, clapped his hand on Remus’ shoulder and said, “Cor Blimey!  Two crackin’ birds like them.  You are one jammy bloke, mister!” before making his way back to his mates in the back.

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**Last A/N:  Ha ha!  Sometimes I am amazed by what utter crap I’m capable of writing!  Hope you got a little laugh from that.  Hugs to all my wonderful readers!**


	15. Hogwarts

**A New Definition of Family**

**Chapter 15:  Hogwarts**

**Disclaimer:  I do not own any of JK Rowling’s characters or any portion of the Harry Potter universe.  And I don’t lead a very exciting life, either, which is how I manage to find time to write stories using these wonderful characters that I do not, in fact, own (please refer to previous sentence regarding said ownership).   Speaking of which, any characters, places, situations, vintages or whatnot that you don’t find in her fabulous books, well they are mine.** **____________________________________________________________________**

Rinna opened her front door and slipped her arm around the elbow of her guest.  “Hullo, what’s a handsome bloke like you doing on my doorstep?" she greeted him. 

Remus rolled his eyes.  “And thus the schmoozing begins…” he sighed.  “What are you going to try to sweet-talk me into, Rinna?”

She ignored his comment.  "Did I mention that you are looking especially dashing this afternoon, Mister, er … Just what is your title now, anyway?"

Remus straightened the collar of his worn shirt, assuming a haughty manner. "I am an authenticator and crafter of magical documents and contracts."

She affected a simpering smile. "Oh Remy!" she cooed,"You make is sound so... glamorous, so sexy, so..."

"Bloody boring?" he suggested with a lift of his eyebrows.

"Hmmm. Took the words right out of my mouth! But it can't be any worse than tending bar."

"And I don't have to dress like a tart." Remus cast her a sly look.

"Hey!" Rinna sounded affronted, but her grin belied that. "I don’t recall you objecting too much... besides, I don't have to dress like a tart anymore!"

He laughed. "Hear, hear! Instead you will dress like a matron!"

She looked aghast. "Perish the thought!"

"Really, Rinna, I can see you in a high-necked tartan plaid robe giving Minerva McGonagall a bit of competition in the fashion world of Hogwarts." He laughed again at the expression on her face.

She glared at him. "Bite me, Remy!"

"Not the best thing to suggest to a werewolf, luv!"  He followed her into the kitchen.  “And you haven’t answered my question, you know.”

She pulled a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, turned and regarded him with an innocent smile.  “Chardonnay?” she offered, showing him the bottle.

He took it from her hands, examining the label: Brutus Shaw Winery, the Finest Wizarding Vintage.  “All right, now I _know_ you are up to something!  You wouldn’t break out our favorite cheap wine for just any old occasion.”

She clicked her tongue.  “Really, Remy, you are so mistrustful.  Why wouldn’t I want to share a ‘Thirty Knut Brute’ with you?  Especially when the occasion we are celebrating is our recent gainful employment?”  She took the bottle, popped the cork with her wand and poured two glasses, handing him one.  “Cheers!”  She clinked her glass against his.

He took a sip before he sat down at the table.  “All right, spill.”  

She slid into the chair next to him.  “I need a caretaker for the house.  It would be closer to your new job, you’d only have to cover your food… no, listen before you shake your head!  It wouldn’t be charity, Remus; you’d be doing me a favor, keeping up the house and such.  I have to pay on it whether I’m here or not, so someone might as well be here.”  She began ticking off points with her fingers.  “You’d have a permanent place to stay, no Mundungus or other unsavory roommate, the cellar during the full moon…”

“Wait, Rinna, slow down!”  Remus held up his hands.  “Let me get this straight.             You are suggesting that I stay here, rent-free.”

“Not exactly.  You would stay here, rent-free, in exchange for the upkeep of the property.  And before you think I’m offering this because I feel sorry for you, or any other such nonsense, you should know that it comes from purely avaricious motives; I don’t want to pay for someone to come over to water the plants and do yard work.”

Remus snorted.  “Avaricious motives, my arse.  You do not have a greedy bone in your body.”  He swirled the wine in his glass, staring at it.  “Case in point: your generous offer.”

Rinna sighed in exasperation.  “Why can’t you see that this would be mutually beneficial?”

He looked up from the glass.  “Oh, I can see it.  And since you put the arrangement in terms of an exchange of services, thus sparing my pride, and even went so far as to hint that what I’d really be doing is helping out a damsel in distress rather than accepting charity, you have made me a rather palatable proposal.”

“So you’ll do it?” She clapped her hands.  

He smiled and shrugged.  “I can’t think of a good reason why not.”  A thought struck him.  “Are you sure you won’t be uncomfortable with me here when you are home on weekends or holidays?”

She asked him seriously, “Would _you_ be uncomfortable?”

“Not very, I should think.”  A cheeky smirk spread across his face.  “As long as we avoid imbibing in alcohol while we are alone together…”  Rinna raised an eyebrow and pointedly lifted her wineglass.  Remus’ smirk grew wider.  “Already, a rule broken… damn.”

“Actually, not,” she said airily as she went to the cupboard for another glass.  “Dorrie will be joining us shortly; I’m cooking a celebration dinner for the three of us.”

Remus leaned back in his chair contentedly.  _An evening of food and cheap wine in the company of my favorite girls, a place to call home, and soon a paycheck: things are definitely looking up._

_________________________________________________________________________________

The scene in the shade of the large tree on the Weasleys’ back lawn, to an outside observer anyway, was a shocking one; bodies lay strewn everywhere, haphazardly.  The sound of ragged breathing and groans pierced the humid summer air.  Presently, a throaty, wicked chuckle floated over the group: “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had such fun!”

Harry raised his head from the soft lawn to eye his godmother.  “What?  What about my birthday party?  You said that then, you know.”

Rinna turned her head to look at him, her eyes shining with mischief.  “I suppose I did, but at your party we didn’t end the Quidditch games with a water balloon fight.”  

“Too bad your nefarious little plot backfired, lads,” Bill said to the twins as he sat up, “but to be honest, it is so bloody muggy out here that after all that flying, a good soaking was rather welcome.”  Fred and George merely sat up and gave their oldest brother a look that seemed to imply that this was what they had intended all along.

Rinna sat up, little bits of grass and leaves and other detritus sticking to her damp hair and clothes.  “I say, now that I have you all together at the same time, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you lot,” she flicked her gaze at Charlie and Bill, “at least, the ones returning to Hogwarts in two days…”

“Crikey!  What did you bring that up for?” demanded George.  “And here we were trying to avoid thinking of the end of the holidays!”

“Which explains this last hurrah celebrating the halcyon days of our summer…” added Fred.  “Really, Rinna, it’s in poor taste for you to bring up something we are all trying to put out of our minds.”  He gave a delicate shudder. 

Rinna refrained from rolling her eyes and looked contrite.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t realize I was bringing up such a painful subject.  I hope I haven’t scarred you twins for life,” she said sweetly.  The rest of the group began to sit up, one by one, curious about what Rinna had to say.  She sat cross-legged, her wrists dangling from her knees, waiting for Fred and George to finish their smart retorts.  “As you know, my application to teach at Hogwarts was accepted.  What I want to talk about is how we should act toward each other when we are there.”

“Are you teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?”  Harry inquired.

“Well, I will be assisting your new D.A.D.A. professor, actually, so yes, but what I want to know is if you want it to be common knowledge that we know each other.”  

There was much discussion around the group on the lawn, with Bill and Charlie giving input, but in the end, everyone deferred to Harry, since it was felt he would be most affected by any decision.  After all, it would already be knowledge to some that Rinna was a distant relative of the Weasleys.

“I think,” said Harry carefully, after much thought, “that we shouldn’t publicize the fact that I’m your godson.  Not keep it a secret, necessarily, but not really volunteer the information, if you know what I mean.”  He looked at Rinna, to see if she was upset.  

She wasn’t.  “All right then.  We’ll keep it under wraps for now.  It’s just as well, since I can’t be accused of nepotism if people don’t know we’re family!”  She smiled at Harry.  Harry felt warmth permeate him at the thought of Rinna considering him family.

“Do you mean that you’ll make us your favorites, then, Rinna?” asked Fred, a sly gleam in his eye.

She looked at him wryly.  “In your case, I’d be more likely to be accused of being too harsh on you to _avoid_ charges of partiality, I’m afraid.”  She gave the twins a look that conveyed _I used to run with the Marauders and I am ready for any of your little tricks._

George clutched dramatically at his chest.  “You wound us!  We aren’t even at school yet, and you are assuming we’ll cause trouble?”

“I wonder why,” Rinna said drolly, as she tossed a water balloon she’d been hiding up in the air, catching it neatly before chucking it at him, hitting him square in the chest.

\----- -----

After dinner, as Rinna was preparing to leave, Harry was able to catch her alone.  “Uh, Rinna?  I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings or anything… you know, by wanting to keep it quiet that you’re my godmother.”

She looked at him shrewdly.  “No, but I appreciate that you were concerned that you had.”  She smiled.  “To be honest, if I was in your place, and you were in mine, I’d want to find out what kind of teacher you were before I made any open declarations of association with you.  I mean, really, are you fair?  An ogre?  Incapable of teaching your way out of a haystack?”

A funny look stole across Harry’s face.  “Do you know how to do that mind-reading thing?” he asked suspiciously.

“Legilimency, you mean?” she responded.  “I wasn’t using it on you just then, if that’s what you were thinking.”

Harry’s eyes widened.  “Then you _can_ do it?”

“Oh, I’m not brilliant at it by any stretch of the imagination.  I always end up with a reaction headache.  I’m far more competent at Occlumency, which is blocking others from my thoughts.”  She shrugged.  “At any rate, I just tried to see it from your perspective, and that’s what I came up with.  I was spot on, then?”

“Pretty close.”  He looked abashed.  “It’s just that…”

“Harry,” she said firmly, “I get it. It’s all right.  You will be ‘Harry Potter, student’ except, I imagine, when you are causing trouble, in which case you will be ‘Mister Potter,’” this was said in a fair imitation of Minerva McGonagall, “and if you are anything like your dad or your godfather, I suspect it will be ‘Mister Potter’ more often than not!”

She was teasing him, he could tell.  He put on his most ingenuous expression.  “Trouble?  Me?”

She pointed at his face.  “There it is!  The patented Marauder Face of Innocence!   I’ve seen it many times, my friend.  You are a natural!”  She laughed, a bit nostalgically.  “But Harry, please know that I _am_ taking my role as godmother seriously.  You can always come to me if you need me, or just to talk.  Anytime.”

Harry nodded.  “Thanks.  I’d like that, I think.”  

“Well then, I will see you the day after tomorrow.”  She smiled at him.

“Are you nervous?” he blurted, and then regretted it, wondering if he was getting too personal.

Rinna snorted.  “Of course I am!  But more like in the way you get nervous before a big important Quidditch match, you know?  More excited than scared…”

“Yeah.”  He knew how that felt.  “Well… the day after tomorrow, then.”  He gave her a quick awkward hug.

She ruffled his hair.  “Goodnight, Harry.”   She apparated and was gone, leaving Harry standing alone with his thoughts.

_______________________________________________________________________________

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry revealed the wickedly stormy weather outside, but fortunately without the rain.  Harry was seated at the Gryffindor table with his friends, eagerly awaiting the Sorting, partly because he had not been to one since his own his first year, and partly because it meant they would be that much closer to eating.  He looked up at the Staff Table, noting Rinna sitting between Professors Sprout and Flitwick.  She looked perfectly calm, but there was an eager glint in her eyes, as if she couldn’t wait for the Sorting to start either.

“Did you hear me, Harry?” Hermione was asking.  “I said I wonder where the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is?  There’s an empty seat by the Headmaster…”

“I wish they’d hurry; I’m starving,” Ron moaned.  But any further lament was cut short by the arrival of the First Years, soaked to the skin by the thunderstorm, and Professor McGonagall placing the Sorting Hat on a three-legged stool at the front of the Hall.  The Hat began its song…

Rinna watched the Sorting with great interest, making silent bets with herself as to where each student would be placed.  It was a good thing that gambling was not one of her vices; the Hat was not predictable, and there was no real rhyme or reason why it would take a long time to deliberate over one student, and yet almost instantly Sort another.  Rinna sighed, ever so slightly annoyed that she could not puzzle out the Hat’s magic even after all these years, and began eating her meal that had appeared before her.

Rinna smiled a little wistfully at the beginning of term announcements, especially at the list of Filch’s newest forbidden objects.  Were there really 437 of them now?  She wondered what had ever happened to The Marauder’s Map that Filch had finally confiscated from Sirius and James.  The corners of her mouth turned up as she nostalgically recalled the botched mission to try to retrieve it from Filch’s office that nearly cost her her Prefect Badge during sixth year.  She probably should never tell Harry and company about _that_ little adventure, seeing as she was supposed to be a good role model now.

Just as Dumbledore was about to announce that Hogwarts would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year, Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody made his dramatic appearance.  Rinna’s mouth pressed harder and harder into a thin line as she watched him limp his way to the Staff Table.  As he sat down next to Dumbledore, Rinna took a deep breath and let it out.  _Here we go…_

As the students thronged through the doors to the entrance hall after their dismissal to bed, Harry looked back to the Staff Table and caught Rinna’s eye.  She smiled at him and nodded a silent goodnight.  He managed a grin back at her before he was swept out into the hallway.

\----- -----

Breakfast the next morning found Ron, Hermione and Harry going over their new class schedules.  They did not have Defense Against the Dark Arts that day.  The rustling of hundreds of wings caused Harry’s head to snap up as the morning owl post began.  As usual, Neville Longbottom got a package from his grandmother; he was notorious for forgetting things.  Harry frowned as a large eagle owl swooped low before depositing its hefty package in front of Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table.  No doubt it was an oversized tin of sweets and baked goods… spoiled git that he was.  

Harry turned his attention to the Staff Table in time to see a barn owl deposit a letter and a long-stemmed crimson rose in front of the new Associate D.A.D.A. teacher.  He grinned as his godmother turned a little pink, but mostly because others had taken notice of the delivery and the hall was filled with the _sur-surring_ sound of whispers.  Even in only half a day, speculation was running wild among the student body about Professor Dunlevy.  Who was she?  Why was she teaching in addition to Moody?  How old was she?  Was she married?  (Although it seemed that the last two questions were mostly being asked by the male half of the students.)  Harry smirked to himself; he liked possessing knowledge that others did not.  

Breakfast ended, and the Trio made to exit the Great Hall to head for the Greenhouses.  Harry felt Rinna’s gaze on him, and he grinned as he pointedly eyed the rose in her hands and raised his eyebrows.  _I know who **that** is from, _ his look seemed to convey.  Her brows came together but the corners of her mouth quirked as she tried to contain her own grin. Her green eyes twinkled.  He could almost hear her voice: _Impertinent scamp!_   

\----- -----

Rinna left her office with a look of satisfaction on her face.  Her first day of classes with the Sixth and Seventh Years had gone well, and she actually was hungry for the first time that day, now that the nerves that had taken over her stomach had settled.  She made her way to the stairs to the entrance hall, already hearing the voices of the many students queuing up for dinner.  Rinna’s feet picked up their pace unbidden at the sound of Minerva McGonagall’s shriek, bringing her to the top of the marble staircase in time to see Mad-Eye Moody with his wand pointing at a snow-white ferret that was bouncing up and down on the stone floor.

Rinna had had the McGonagall Shriek directed at herself a few times in her life, and she almost, _almost_ felt sorry for Moody when the Deputy Headmistress squawked, “Moody, is that a _student_?”

That is, until he answered, “Yep.”

Rinna quickly followed Professor McGonagall as the older witch ran down the steps and pointed her wand at the quivering little creature.  With a _snap_ , a disheveled Draco Malfoy appeared in a heap on the floor, blond hair in disarray, face red with humiliation.  While McGonagall turned to harangue Moody, Rinna surreptitiously cast diagnostic charms over the boy as he got to his feet.  She sighed in relief: no broken bones or serious injury, just bruises.  And, by the look in his eyes, a bruised ego as well.  Rinna sighed again, this time in frustration.  Was Moody daft?  This was no way to treat a student!  

She didn’t learn till later that Draco, Ron and Harry had exchanged words, and Draco had made disparaging remarks about Molly Weasley before Harry had insulted Narcissa Malfoy, prompting Draco to fire a curse at Harry while Harry’s back was turned.  While she agreed with Moody that it was a low, cowardly thing to do, she still took exception with how Mad-Eye had handled the situation.  

The part of her brain that had gleefully taken on the role of “Professor” suggested that if young Malfoy could fire a curse at such close range and miss, then she or Moody or someone had better get these Fourth Years up to snuff with their aim.  Then the “Godmother” portion of her mind mentally whapped her upside the head and huffily shrilled that shouldn’t she be a bit perturbed that the snotty offspring of Lucius Malfoy had tried to curse her godson?  “Brilliant!” she muttered.  “I’m here only one day, and I’m already having arguments with myself!”  

\------ -----

Harry and Ron were still grinning at the memory of Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret when Hermione excused herself from the dinner table and made off for the library.  Fred Weasley smoothly moved into the seat she had vacated and spoke softly to Harry and Ron.

“Had D.A.D.A. with the Jee-Em this afternoon,” he said conspiratorially.

“The ‘Jee-Em?’” Harry asked, confused.

George had taken the seat opposite his twin.  “Yeah,” he huffed impatiently, “the Jee-Em.  The Jee-Em.”  At Harry and Ron’s blank stares he rolled his eyes and whispered, “Your godmother…”

“Oh!” Realization dawned on the two younger boys.  “The G.M.!  I get it,” Harry leaned forward.  “Well?”

The older boys’ eyes met.  “Excellent,” they summarized in unison.

“We’re going to cover silent spells, and wandless magic,” said George.

“And blood magic, and the Unforgivables,” added Fred.

Lee Jordan, best friend of Fred and George, sat down across from Harry.  “You talking ‘bout Dunlevy’s class?” The other two nodded.  “Merlin, it’s going to be brilliant!  We’ve got to sit closer to the front, mates.  I want to be able to watch those lips of hers move when she lectures.”  Lee’s eyes became a little unfocused.

Fred leaned in and stage whispered, “Lee’s a little bit sweet on her, I’m afraid.”

Harry nearly choked on a bite of red potatoes.  Ron slapped him heartily on the back while Lee looked at him curiously.  “You all right, Harry?”

“Of course he is,” Fred assured him, tossing Harry a wicked leer.  “He’s just a little sweet on her, too!”  Harry began coughing again.

“Well, who could blame him?” Lee pointed out.  “She’s a red-head.  I think red-headed women are dead sexy, don’t you?”

George raked his hand through his own ginger hair and shook it out of his eyes.  “ _All_ red-heads are dead sexy,” he pronounced. 

By the time Harry had caught his breath, and the redness of his face had faded, the three Sixth Years were long gone.

\----- -----

Footfalls echoed in the now-quiet hallways as Rinna began the last leg of her bedtime rounds.  She wasn’t expecting too much trouble on the first full day anyway; she knew from experience that the first day of classes tended to be stressful, exciting, and tiring.  The students didn’t usually start prowling about causing mischief until after the second or third day.  Which was why she had volunteered for the first night of staff patrol.  She snorted.  _Let Sinistra and Sprout think they bamboozled me into taking first patrol,_ she thought. _I’ll use their little deception to my advantage later._   And so, with a satisfied smirk and a little bit of a swagger, she made her way through the school.

She found herself stopping at a particular window that looked out onto the lake and the grounds.  She reached into her robes and pulled out the letter that had come with the morning post, accompanied by a rose.  Lighting her wand with a silent _Lumos_ , she studied it again.  

It wasn’t a letter, exactly.  It was a drawing.  Of a spot she remembered well.

The pencil on parchment was a fair rendering of a moonrise over Hogwarts’ lake, as seen from a particular vantage point in the air.  The gibbous moon hung just above the hills, and spilled moonlight onto the water.  She closed her eyes, and could see the real thing in her mind, with the light like liquid platinum on the lake’s surface until a tendril from the giant squid broke the smooth sheet of moonlight into a thousand tiny flickers.   

She opened her eyes, and looked again at the drawing.  Scrawled on the bottom corner, in familiar writing, was: _Having trouble getting back to London.  Have been sighted, I believe, and I have to lay low.  To pass the time, I think of you, and how many times we basked in the moonlight and the stars in ‘our spot’ above the lake._  Seemingly as an afterthought, the word _over_ was scribbled at the very bottom.

She turned the parchment over.  

_Rinna,_

_I have recently received an owl from Remus._ C _ongratulations on your new position at Hogwarts.  I have no doubt that you will be a stellar teacher._

_Harry wrote me a letter telling me his scar hurt one morning last week.  This comes on the heels of some strange rumors I have heard (which I dare not write here), and I am very concerned.  I believe that Dumbledore, too, is reading the signs, as he not only got Mad-Eye out of retirement, but has hired you.  I feel better knowing that you will be at Hogwarts with Harry._

_It is ironic, perhaps, that a few nights ago I drew this picture (which I didn’t really intend to give you but now it seems apropos), and now, when you get this letter, you will be almost at that very spot. I wonder if it is as beautiful as I remember it._

_Evidently I am out of danger for now, so I am on the move once more. Which is why I can send you this note, and I suppose you will recognize the message of the rose.  I’m not sure where I am going, since my original plan was to come back to see you.  Apparently you’ve managed to run away again…_

_Yours,_

_Sirius_

Melancholic.  That was a good word for what she was feeling now.  She looked up, out the window again, taking in a view she had seen many times, many years before, when she would sit in the window sill with her best friend and talk and giggle and dream.  Now, in the quiet darkness, with the excitement and nerves of her first day teaching well behind her, Rinna felt as if all her breath had been stolen from her lungs as she realized that she had returned to the one place that held more memories of Lily and James, Remus, and Sirius, than any other spot on earth.  Her heart quailed.  _Sweet Merlin, what the hell was I thinking?_

She whirled around at the soft sound of a shoe scraping on stone.  “I hope I didn’t startle you, Arinna,” the Headmaster said.

Rinna quickly put on a smile.  “I was lost in thought, I’m afraid.”

Dumbledore nodded sagely.  “I often find myself in that situation when I walk around the castle.  There are so many places that bring back a memory or two…”

“I hadn’t really considered that.  All the memories this old castle holds for me, I mean.”  She glanced out over the darkened grounds of the school.  “I suspect I will be finding myself in bittersweet reverie quite often.”

He considered her kindly.  “And yet, it is the memories, be they joyful or poignant, that keep the ones we’ve lost alive in our hearts, is it not?”  

Rinna turned to look out again, and the Headmaster joined her.  They stood silently for several minutes before he spoke.  “I wanted to congratulate you on an excellent first day.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He stepped away.  “Goodnight, Arinna.”

“Goodnight, Albus.”  Rinna remained at the window with her thoughts and reminiscences for a long time before retiring to her quarters.

The second day of classes had begun, and Rinna was pleased that her stomach no longer seemed tied in knots, making breakfast, and her morning classes, much more enjoyable.  The mid-morning break afforded Rinna the opportunity she needed to obtain information from the Hogwarts Potions Master.  She strolled into the dungeon classroom and looked around, literally spinning on her feet as she took in the changes.  It certainly looked different from Slughorn’s classroom.  Well, as different as a dank dungeon could, given the limited decorating opportunities afforded by such a setting… 

She stopped mid-turn when she caught the mordant look on the Potions Professor’s face as he watched her from the desk in the front of the classroom.  She studied him for a moment.  “Hullo, Severus,” she offered.

Severus Snape stood up and made his way around the desk to stand in front of it, stiffly.  “Hello, Arinna.  May I assist you in some way?” he asked politely.

“I hope so,” she said, walking briskly to the front.  She couldn’t help but flick her attention to a desk in the front row on the far right side.

Snape’s eyes followed the direction hers had gone, before he returned his gaze to her face.  He smirked.  “Waxing nostalgic, are we, Professor Dunlevy?” 

His voice blurred her thoughts like a drop of oil smears ink on paper.  She looked into his eyes, her face and voice devoid of expression.  “I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said smoothly.  She held out a parchment in her hand.  “I have the inventory of the potions store room, and I’ve marked off the ingredients I would like to use.”  Snape took it from her and glanced at it.  “Did the Headmaster inform you of my little project?” she wondered.

“Only that you had one you’d be working on.”  

She nodded.  “I’m wondering if you can tell me a reliable source for these ingredients, since they are not in the stores, or at least, not on the inventory.”  She watched as his lips twitched slightly in annoyance at her implication that he had a private storeroom.  

She was right, of course.  

He looked at the new piece of parchment she had given him, and his eyebrows rose.  “Just a ‘little project’ you say, Arinna?” he murmured mockingly.  He watched her lips quirk into an ironic half-grin.  Turning quickly from her rather fascinating mouth, he grabbed the quill from his desk and began marking her list.  “You’ll want to get this, this and these,” marking as he went, “at Fenwethers, and the rest of these you should find at Darklings & Grimm.  Knockturn Alley.  They have the fairest prices and the purest ingredients.”  He handed the list back to her.  “That is what you wanted to know, isn’t it?”

She looked up at him and smiled her thanks.  “Yes, actually.  You have saved me the trouble of wandering around Knockturn Alley comparing prices and discerning cheats.  Thank you.”

“If you want to go to the trouble of mentioning my name, I daresay you will find yourself with the proprietors themselves, and they will be disinclined to try to swindle you in any way.” 

Her smile widened.  “Brilliant.  And again, thank you.”  She turned to leave.

Snape took a few steps after her. “I read all your published articles.  They were, no surprise to me, quite excellent.”

She turned to look at him, a closed expression on her face.  “I only published one article…”

Snape crossed his arms and eyed her shrewdly.  “What I meant to say was: I read the one you published under your given name.”  He recognized the expression on her face from their school days.  It was the one that she wore when she knew she was not going to like what was said next. “And I read the ones that came out earlier under your German and Chinese pseudonyms as well.” He watched as she opened her mouth to contradict him, interrupting impatiently, “Please, Arinna, do not do me the discourtesy of denying my conclusions when I know I am correct.  I understand completely why you did not use your real name, at least not until you thought you had it right.”

She let out a long breath.  “But I didn’t have it right, apparently,” she noted, a trace of bitterness coloring her words.

“Oh, but you did.  The problem was that you were writing for idiots who wouldn’t recognize innovative potions work if it bit them on their sorry arses.”

Rinna made a rude noise.  “That’s what Dumbledore said.  Only he didn’t put it quite so, ah, colorfully.”

“Well then, in this particular instance, I will agree with the old man.”  Another smirk threatened to turn up the corners of his mouth.

Curious, she asked, “How did you know, about the other articles I mean; how did you deduce they were mine?”  Rinna was quiet as she waited for an answer, seeing that Snape was eyeing her astutely and appeared to be weighing how much he should say.  She didn’t want to press the issue; they had been having a surprisingly civil conversation up until now.

When he finally spoke, she was momentarily distracted by the rich, persuasive quality of his voice.  Apparently Severus had been one of those lads whose voice had continued to mellow and deepen even past puberty, because she sure didn’t remember it being that velvety when they had been in school…

“I wasn’t your potions partner for four years for naught, I’ll have you know,” he said dryly.  “I recognized your work.”  

“I see,” she nodded, accepting the explanation as sufficient.  Then mischief flashed in her eyes.  “A case of familiarity not just breeding contempt, but recognition as well?”

Again he fixed her with a disconcerting gaze before deciding to throw caution to the wind.  Certainly their interaction so far had been courteous and polite, but he had promised himself that if he ever was given the opportunity to speak to her again, he would say to her what he’d wanted to the day he graduated from Hogwarts.  

“I don’t think it was the familiarity that bred the contempt, you know.  I believe it was your choice in lovers.”  He watched as storm clouds of anger darkened her visage, and felt a pang that the unusual accord they had found in the last few minutes would now be lost.  _No matter,_ he told himself.  He knew much better how to deal with her when she was in _this_ kind of mood, anyway.

“So, we are back to this, are we?” she spat furiously.

He bore into her with his black, hawk-like eyes.  “I could not understand how you deigned to give yourself to that git in the first place, but I’d hoped you would outgrow him.  You deserved far better, you know.  And then, I found out that you’d agreed to marry him!”  His voice dripped with condescension.  “For a smart girl, you were an idiot when it came to your heart.”

The look on her face and the tone in her voice was loaded with censure.  “Are you quite through?  Because you would do well, Snape, to avoid these extemporaneous speeches on subjects you know nothing about.”  She lifted her chin defiantly.  “You do not know who or what I did or did not deserve.  And you certainly never earned the right to have any say in what I did with my life or who I gave my heart to!”

“Merlin’s balls!” Snape swore, pointing an accusing finger at her.  “You are still in love with him, aren’t you?  Even after all he did?”

“Sirius Black did not murder anyone,” she said with conviction.

Snape’s eyes widened in fury.  “You believe that codswollop the werewolf told you?  Or did you hear it from Potter and his friends?  Tell me, Arinna, do you believe it so you can salve your conscience for being in love with a murderer?”

Rinna shot him a look of pure malevolence.  “Tell me, Severus, does the Dark Mark you took for your Lord still burn your forearm?”  Her eyes glittered as he unconsciously rubbed his left arm.  “I could easily hold _you_ in contempt for the decisions _you_ made as a young idiot!”

They stood mirroring each other, legs apart, hands on hips, glaring daggers for several long minutes.  Finally, Rinna let her hands and head drop, and she heaved a sigh.  “You say you can’t understand the decisions I made, and I really cannot fathom the ones you did… but the thing is; they are in the past.” She looked up again.  “And I, for one, intend to keep them there.  We are just going to have to agree to disagree, I suppose, if we are to work together as colleagues now.”

Snape nodded slightly as his indignation drained away.  “Not unlike our agreement when we worked together in potions class,” he commented quietly.

A ghost of a smile crossed her face.  “Excellent point,” she conceded.  She nodded to him, and turned to leave.

Once again he stopped her with his comment.  “You once told me in a fit of pique… well, actually you said this on numerous occasions… but you told me that you were the best bloody potions partner I would ever have…”

She did not turn around, but her mouth crooked up at the memory.  “I could be a bit arrogant at times,” she said ruefully.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice like honey fresh from the comb, “you were right.”

She nodded again, accepting the figurative olive branch he offered, and slipped out of the classroom.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Rinna was beginning to think it had been unnecessary to talk to Harry about how they should act toward each other at school since she hadn’t even said two words to him or his friends since arriving three days ago.  Which was why she was lurking in the corridor outside the classrooms she and Moody had been assigned, nodding at students and watching keenly for any sign of her godson or his sidekicks.  She had just about given up, thinking they must have used one of the side corridors, when she thought she heard Ron’s voice.

“He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn’t he?  When he did _Avada Kedavra_ , the way that spider just _died_ , just snuffed it right—“  Ron’s comments ended abruptly, and Rinna saw why; the look on Harry’s face as they had come around the corner from a side hallway nearly broke her heart. (~)

“Harry?” she said gently, “Are you all right?”

“Professor Moody just showed us the Unforgivable Curses,” Hermione informed her.

Rinna looked carefully at Ron and Hermione.  “All of them?” she asked, comprehending the reason for Harry’s bleak expression.  They nodded.  She put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry, Harry.”  

Her words were weighted with meaning.  Harry looked up at her, and saw sympathy in her face.  “Have you ever seen it, Rinna?  The _Avada Kedavra_?” he half-whispered.

His godmother winced, as if a pain had jabbed through her skull.  “Yes,” she breathed.  “More times than I want to remember.”

Hermione looked at Ron.  She felt like they were intruding on a private moment.

Harry looked down at the floor.  _Of course.  Sirius said her parents were murdered… She must have seen it then._

Rinna’s next words were in a tight, controlled voice.  “The only good thing I can say about the Killing Curse, as oxymoronic as that sounds, is that its effect is instantaneous.”  She watched Harry’s reaction to her comment.  _At least Lily’s and James’ suffering had been brief_.  “Which is why, I suppose, someone invented the _Cruciatus_ ; because the _Avada_ didn’t cause enough torment.”  Her tone was ironic.

Harry looked at his two companions.  “He…” His voice faltered.

“He showed us that one, too,” Hermione finished for him.  “The look on poor Neville’s face…”

Rinna looked at her sharply.  “Neville?”

“Neville Longbottom, he’s in our class,” Ron explained.

“Is Neville all right?”  Rinna asked with concern.  

Ron looked at the others, who shrugged.  “Dunno,” he said.  “Moody came and took him to his office.”

Harry thought that Rinna looked awfully concerned for a kid she didn’t know.  Then he remembered what Sirius had said about her being very compassionate and empathetic.

Rinna felt her heart go out to Neville.  Of course, none of his schoolmates would know why Moody’s demonstration of the _Cruciatus_ was so upsetting to him, but his mother Alice had been one of Rinna’s good friends at Hogwarts. Rinna knew all about the torture to insanity of the Longbottoms by Death Eaters, effectively leaving Neville orphaned. She felt a somewhat irrational surge of anger toward Mad-Eye Moody.  _Some of these children lose their innocence so early these days… couldn’t he have let Neville and Harry hold on to theirs just a little bit longer?_

“Rinna?” Harry said tentatively as he watched a scowl take over her face.  “What’s wrong?”

Sighing heavily, Rinna replied, “Only that there is so much evil that people invent curses such as these.  And because of that, Hogwarts has to teach children Defense Against the Dark Arts.”  She attempted a smile.  “I’d much rather be teaching flying, if I had my druthers.”

The Trio smiled weakly at her comment.  “Are you lot heading to the Great Hall for dinner?” Rinna changed the subject.  At their nods she asked, “May I join you?”  Again, they nodded, and the four began their journey in silence.

“Oh, hey,” Harry suddenly said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you:  what did Siri…uh, Snuffles have to say?”  To his amazement, his godmother blushed furiously.  “Uh, I mean, uh, you don’t have to say anything if it was private, you know,” Harry backpedaled.  

“Usually, private letters _are_ private, you know,” she reproved.  “But I will at least tell you that he is fine, he’s safe, and he’s worried about you since you sent him that letter about your scar.”  _I will **not** tell you how fast my heart beats every time I re-read it, or how my heart aches when I look at that drawing…_

They had reached the Great Hall.  Harry noticed a subtle shift in Rinna’s demeanor.  “Well, you three,” she said briskly, “you know where my office is… don’t be strangers.”  And with a little nod, she moved toward the Staff Table.  As Harry sat down with his friends, he realized what he had seen was Rinna’s change from Godmother to Professor.  So far, he liked both personas.

________________________________________________________________________________

It really came as no surprise to Rinna that she should find herself standing on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch after dark that night, her Silver Dart in her hand and a lightweight flying cloak on her shoulders.  After all, sneaking out for late-night flying had been one of the ways she had alleviated stress all those years ago.  And now that she was back at Hogwarts, she found herself slipping into some old Hogwarts-y habits.  

She could have blamed her current itch to fly over Hogwarts’ lake at breakneck speed on a need to blow off steam over her recent disturbing conversation about the Killing and _Cruciatus_ Curses, or on the stress of her first few days of a new teaching job.  Certainly, those were contributing factors.  But if she was honest with herself, the overwhelming reason she was there, straddling her broom, aching to fly, was a certain image she couldn’t get out of her head.  _Damn you, Sirius!  And damn your bloody drawing, too._

She circled around the lake before coming to a stop at a particular location above the water.  She was not shocked in the least that she found the spot exactly without even trying; it had been instinctual.  She hovered, taking in the view, and sighed.  

\----- -----

Sirius and Rinna stood side by side on the grassy pitch and surveyed the crisp December night sky.  “The gibbous moon will be rising in a couple of hours,” Sirius commented.  “We don’t want to miss that.”

She nodded in agreement.  She didn’t question how he knew this.  She was beginning to be attuned to the moon’s cycle as well.  _I guess that’s what happens when you are friends with a werewolf_.  She felt him drape the heavy flying cloak over her shoulders.  

He turned to her.  “Are you ready?”  He was rewarded with her happy grin and a nod.  “Good.  Try and keep up, Dunlevy!” he challenged as he leapt on his broom and shot into the sky.  He grinned as he heard her indignant shout, and began an intricate series of maneuvers for her to copy.  He was in his element, and once again appreciated the good fortune that she shared his love of flying.  

They were rather well matched, both Chasers, and their late-night clandestine flying sessions had certainly improved both their games.  Lately, however, these sessions had changed; they seemed less like a competition and more like a dance as the two became accustomed to each other’s moves and began to fly in synchrony rather than in mimicry.  That was what was happening now.  She had anticipated his actions and caught up to him, so they moved together through the sky.  He wondered what it would be like to hold her in his arms and twirl her around a dance floor.

He pulled to a stop and smiled at her.  The cool air was tingeing her cheeks and nose pink, and her breath came out in little puffs of steam.  He thought she looked completely, utterly, achingly beautiful.

“That felt like dancing!” she laughed.  

He looked at her in amazement.  “I was just thinking that!”

She leaned over and tapped his forehead.  “You know what they say, Blackie; great minds think alike!”

“Do you dance?” he wondered.

She snorted.  “Really, Blackie.  I come from a fine wizarding family, as you well know.  Which means I was forced to go to all the classes on the social graces that you attended in your childhood.”

“But that doesn’t mean that you can dance,” he retorted.  “You could have two left feet.”  Somehow, he doubted it, though.

She smirked at him.  “I guess you will have to wait and see.  That could certainly be a way to occupy our evenings once it grows too cold to fly.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her.  “Are you implying, Miss Dunlevy, that you want to spend more of your evenings with me?”

“Goodness, Mr. Black, you must be very thick-headed if you haven’t figured that out by now!”

“I may be thick-headed, but I can out-fly you any time I want!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”  And he was off, with her right on his tail.  And so the flirtation continued for quite some time until Sirius saw the telltale glow on the horizon that indicated the imminent moonrise.  He signaled her to land.  He wanted her in his arms for this.

She climbed onto his broom and settled herself in front of him comfortably, leaning her head onto his shoulder and tucking the cloak snugly around her.  He reached his hands around her and kicked off the ground.  Slowly they glided to their spot above the lake and watched the moon rise above the hills to spill liquid silver onto the lake water below.  From his vantage point, just behind and to her right, he could see the corner of her lips turn up in delight.  

He leaned forward to speak in her ear.  “You look beautiful tonight, Rinna.”  She blushed, and as she turned her head to him, his lips brushed her cheek.  

She shivered as the biting breeze blew across her exertion-heated face.  Sirius used one hand to lift the hood of her cloak and placed it over her head.  He did the same with his own, and then tucked her head under his chin as he pressed her close to him.  She closed her eyes and reveled in his warmth.  

“Look,” he whispered, and she opened her eyes to see the giant squid making ripples in the water.  The smooth sheet of liquid moonlight was shattered into a myriad of sparkling shards that winked below them.  She sighed.

“Sirius,” she said softly.

He jerked his head from the lake below to look at her.  “Yes, Rinna?” he answered breathlessly.

She smiled.  “I can’t think of any place else I’d rather be right now than here, with you.”

\----- -----

Rinna pulled the letter from Sirius out from her cloak, and turned it over.  She compared the drawing to the view in front of her.  _He remembered it remarkably well._

Turning it over once more, she re-read his letter.  _I wonder if it is as beautiful as I remember it._ She closed her eyes and felt a hollow ache in her chest.  _No, Sirius, it is not… not without you here with me…_

She stared out over the lake for a long time, pondering the words of his letter.  He was still in too much danger, and how long could he go on this way?  He wasn’t getting proper rest, or proper nutrition, she’d wager.  The constant stress of hiding and running must certainly be taking its toll on him by now.  She hated to think of the conditions he was living in.  

If anyone had enjoyed the little niceties that moderate wealth could afford, it had been Sirius Black.  (Fortunately, he had found favor with one of his uncles who’d left him a sizeable inheritance, which became his only source of money once he was disinherited from the House of Black.) She smiled at the memory of his penchant for expensive Egyptian cotton sheets and goose-down comforters.  And the man had dressed well.  Not in the snobby way of most Pure-bloods, but his clothing had been of the finest quality, albeit more often than not artfully untucked and casual.  He had always looked good, but never like he’d put any effort into his appearance…

_He could look good again,_ she thought, _if he was in the proper circumstances.  As in, not on the lam, properly fed, decently clothed, and clean-shaven.  If someone just gave him a little tender, loving care…_

She stopped her thoughts in their tracks.  There was really no point in letting her mind drift any farther into _that_ fantasy.  She was here, way up north at Hogwarts now, and besides, it’s not like she could harbor a fugitive in her quarters or anything… But… she could provide a place for him at her house.  He and Remus would be good for each other:  Remus could keep him out of trouble, and Sirius could keep Remus company on the full moon.  She was sure Remus wouldn’t object, and in fact he’d probably enjoy thumbing his nose at the Ministry in this way!

A grin of satisfaction began to trace itself across her face.  This was perfect!  She made up her mind that this Saturday she would go home and ask Remus to find Sirius and give him a room at her house.

_______________________________________________________________________________

The shaggy large dog lay curled up under a bush in the park, watching people pass by with interest.  Finally, he caught a familiar scent, and his ears pricked up.  A tall, sandy-haired man was walking toward him, a bag of groceries in one arm.  The man whistled and called softly, “Where are you, boy?” and patted his leg.  The dog pulled himself up with a long stretch of his back legs, and let out a gentle _woof_.

“Ah, there you are!  Been waiting long?”  The dog cocked his head, tongue lolling in a canine grin, causing the man to smile.  “Sorry about that.  I needed to stock up on victuals.”  The dog barked his approval, and settled in a trot by the man’s left leg.  

Remus Lupin smiled, and continued his one-way conversation as the two walked.  “I was glad to get your letter, Padfoot.  I was concerned when I hadn’t heard from you.  And I always wonder if my letters will reach you.  Apparently the last one did.”  He shifted the bag to his other arm.  “I take it you have heard nothing else on that so-called lead?”  The dog next to him growled.  

They had entered a little neighborhood.  “We’re almost there, old friend.  You are welcome to stay.  I think I will be able to convince the landlady to allow me to keep a mangy old mutt here.”  Remus grinned at his private joke.  They ambled up the stoop of a cozy house, and Remus took down the wards and unlocked the door.

Remus walked to the kitchen to put the groceries on the counter, and noted the dog did not follow.  He stepped back out into the living room and found Sirius Black, looking bedraggled and peering around the room with interest.

Sirius turned to him and said evenly, “This is Rinna’s house, isn’t it?”  

Remus nodded.  “She convinced me to stay here and take care of the place while she’s at Hogwarts,” he explained.  He took Sirius’ arm and led him to the kitchen, sitting him at the table.  Remus put away food as he continued, “She needed a caretaker, and I needed a place to stay.  So, here I am, the steward of the Manor.”

“Moony, does she know I’m here?” Sirius asked suspiciously.

“Well, not exactly.  But we’ll convince her that it is a good idea,” Remus said with confidence.

Sirius lifted an eyebrow at his old friend.  “And how, precisely, are we going to persuade your ‘landlady’ of that?”

Remus opened his arms wide.  “Why with Marauder charm, of course!  And a little fast talking, in the form of an Owl that will go out tomorrow morning.”  He grinned a charming smile, mischief flashing in his eyes.  “She won’t be able to resist the two of us; we’ll bowl her over with our brilliant arguments!”

Sirius looked skeptical.  “Right.  And just what are our brilliant arguments, exactly?”

“Dinner first.  Details later,” Remus declared firmly as he set a pot on the stove to boil.

_Something about skipping meals involuntarily makes a man appreciate good home-cooked food_ , reflected Sirius after dinner as he watched Remus place some parchment and a quill on the table.  Unfortunately, he was now so tired that he was unable to focus on what Remus was saying.  “Moony, I’m afraid I’m knackered, and I’m not much help.  You are going to have to mastermind this little plot of yours on your own.  Sorry.” 

“Of course!” said Remus, immediately contrite.  “I should have realized… here, let me show you to your room.”

He took Sirius down the hall to the first guest room, which had a bath adjoining to the room Remus was using.  “Sleep yourself out, Padfoot.  Tomorrow is Saturday, and I don’t have to work, so once I take the letter to the Owl Post, I plan on relaxing here until you wake.”

“Thanks, mate!”  Sirius yawned hugely.  “I appreciate this, you know.”

“I know what it is like to be homeless, Sirius,” Remus said softly.  He made to leave, but turned back at the door.  “And by the way, don’t use the shower in the bath here.  The drain is clogged, and I haven’t had a chance to magic it clear yet.  You’ll need to use the one in the master bath.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow at that, but merely shrugged and said, “Right.”  He kicked off his shoes, and fell onto the bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Saturday dawned over Hogwarts, clear and beautiful, with the cool morning air hinting that the warmth of summer would soon give way to autumn.  Unfortunately, Professor Dunlevy missed it by several hours.  She pulled herself from her bed with a groan, and realized that it was going to take more than a few days at school to rid her of her late-morning tendencies… With a jolt she remembered her resolution from the night on the lake, and began to ready herself in a frenzy.  

Rinna stepped out of the fireplace into her living room and sensed that the house was locked and warded from the outside.  _Damn!  Remus has left already._   Annoyed that she had missed him, she moved across the living room to the small antique desk in the corner, intent on writing him a note explaining her mad plan.

As she searched for a working ball pen, she became aware of a sound encroaching on her consciousness.  _Is that water running?_   She began to follow the sound, moving down the hallway toward her bedroom.  It was coming from her shower, a fact she confirmed as she stepped into her room.

Of course!  She’d forgotten to tell Remus about the faulty drain in the guest bathroom, and he was probably using the other shower until he could get it fixed.  _No, wait.  If the house is warded from the outside, only Remus or I can do that.  He **must** be gone. _  And if that was the case, then _who_ was in her shower?  In a flash, her wand was in her hand.

She crept from her bedroom into the steamy bathroom.  She heard the running water and sounds of splashing coming from behind the plastic curtain in the alcove of her walk-in shower.  Even though common sense told her that none of the wards to her house had been disturbed, a prickling sixth sense told her this was _definitely_ not Remus in her shower.  

She held out her wand, and stepped to the alcove.  She pushed her wand into the curtain, indenting it as she went, and said in a low and dangerous voice, “Don’t move.”  

The figure behind the curtain froze for a moment, before whipping the shower curtain aside, obstructing her wand arm by entangling it as he did so.  Rinna reacted swiftly by grabbing his throat with her other hand even as she freed her wand.  She felt the intruder lose his balance as he slipped on the slick tiles, so Rinna moved and allowed the intruder’s momentum to carry him further forward as he pitched out of the shower.  He grabbed her arm in an attempt to right himself, but it was too late.  Rinna was pulled down with the stranger and landed on the floor on top of him.  She wrenched her wand free and placed it at his throat even as she registered who he was.

Startled blue eyes peered into wide green ones that were mere inches away as the two of them took several long seconds to comprehend their predicament.  

“Bloody effing hell, Sirius!  What are you doing?” she screamed at him as she moved the wand tip away from his neck slightly.

A cocky grin spread across Sirius’ face as he lifted his head from the floor and glanced down to appraise the situation.  “Well,” he drawled, as he looked back up into her eyes, “at the moment, having about four or five of my wildest fantasies fulfilled…”

As Rinna looked down, she realized that she was straddling Sirius.  Straddling a very naked Sirius.  A very naked and wet Sirius… She gulped as she realized she was spending far more time looking down at him than propriety allowed, so she quickly returned to his face.  He was grinning at her, the naked prat; a sexy quirky grin that no man who’d been discovered uninvited and naked in someone’s home should have the right to wear.  The word “naked” seemed to be reverberating through her head, and somehow she had suddenly seemed to develop a rather heightened awareness of Sirius&rs 


End file.
